


Multicolored

by Trumpeteer34



Series: Multicolored [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Blood, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bruce Feels, Child Abuse, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Multiple Personalities, Past Child Abuse, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Teambuilding, Work In Progress, self-injury, team movie night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:34:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trumpeteer34/pseuds/Trumpeteer34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Avengers slowly grow closer to each other, they begin to notice some oddities about their resident gamma expert, oddities that he is not even aware of.</p>
<p>Prompt from tumblr user pushingcrazies: <i>What if Bruce also had some of the more traditional (if there is any such thing) DID personality types/archetypes.  Obviously the Hulk is the Protector Archetype.  What if Bruce also had a child personality, or a punk personality, or….I dunno, I’m trying to think back to my psychology class and when I used to watch United States of Tara, but I’m coming up blank on some of the more common personality archetypes.  But you know what I mean.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>And, like, thanks to the Gamma radiation, each personality type would manifest itself in a physical variation of Bruce.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

When the team had all moved into what Tony had dubbed “Avengers Tower,” the goal was to form bonds of friendship which, as Steve had proclaimed, would help the six individuals become more of a team. The close proximity with each other, they knew, would no doubt lead to them learning about each other and each other’s pasts. 

For them being a collection of six very different people with very different backgrounds, they really didn’t expect to be too surprised by the strange topics that would crop up. They had the man who had been frozen for 70 years, two assassins, a billionaire genius playboy philanthropist, a demigod, and a man with his enormous green rage monster alter ego living under one roof; how strange could things possibly get?

About a month after the team had gotten settled in their new home, the first really strange thing happened.

Tony had been off at a conference with Ms. Potts, but the rest of the team had collected on the floor that served as a gym. Steve and Thor were sparring as Natasha and Clint were doing some target practice with a pistol and bow and arrow, respectively. They had managed to convince Bruce to leave the sanctity of the laboratories to spend some time with the rest of the team. He was currently seated against a wall close to where the assassins were practicing, reading one of the numerous science journals he had missed out on while on the run from the government. Tony had stocked the labs with thick tombs when he found out that Bruce wasn’t exactly up to date in his field.

As Bruce flipped the page, he glanced over the top of his reading glasses to look briefly at the assassins before returning his attention to the journal.

Natasha reloaded her pistols and shook out the tension in her shoulders. Next to her, Clint reached over his shoulder to pull another arrow from his quiver, his other hand fiddling with the buttons on his bow to select a certain arrowhead. He drew an arrow that Stark and Banner had developed for him earlier in the week, eyeing it carefully. He didn’t know exactly what it did, but he was determined to find out. 

As the redhead next to him began firing her clip of bullets into the targets across the room, he readied his bow. His brow furrowed slightly when he saw the tip of the arrow blinking an ominous red light. “Hey, Bruce?” he called over his shoulder without looking away from the light. “What is this new arrowhead supposed to do—?”

Without warning, the tip exploded.

The other occupants in the room jumped at the sudden noise, all instantly looking over to where the small cloud of smoke quickly hid Clint and Natasha. Bruce was on his feet in an instant and running toward them. A pair of coughing, distinctly female and male, sounded within the haze. Thor and Steve dashed over, the God of Thunder swinging his hammer to create a gust that dispersed the cloud.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to do that,” Clint said between fits of coughing. 

Natasha glanced over at him as she attempted to catch her breath. Her eyes narrowed on the hand that was still holding his bow. “Clint, your hand…”

Barton’s eyes traveled to his partner before he followed her gaze down to the appendage in question. That was when he started to feel the stinging sensation shooting up his arm. It wasn’t terrible, but it was just enough to be painful. His bow dropped from his burning hand.

He drew a hissing breath in when Bruce carefully took hold of his wrist to observe the wound. “Mild chemical burn…” the physicist murmured to himself, still intently studying Clint’s hand. “Captain, could you grab the first aid kit from the wall, if you would?”

Steve did as he was asked, musing for a moment that it had been a while since Bruce had called him “Captain.” He didn’t comment on it as he handed over the kit.

“Thank you, Captain,” Bruce remarked with careful pronunciation and articulation as he opened the kit and withdrew some gauze.

As Steve unconsciously felt himself lift an eyebrow in mild confusion, Clint gave a light chuckle. “Feeling formal today, Bruce?” he teased.

Bruce did not respond as he carefully began cleaning the burned area.

Clint frowned down at him for a moment before the scientist started dragging him over to one of the sinks on the far wall. “Take it easy, Bruce. It’s not like I’m dying—”

“You should run the burn under cool water for at least fifteen minutes,” Bruce informed him, sounding like the leading expert on treating burns. He was speaking differently, almost professionally. It was weird, and _very_ different from the nervous mumblings the man was prone to do.

Clint glanced over his shoulder at his three other teammates, giving them a helplessly confused look. Steve, carrying the first aid kit, shrugged as if to say _just go with it._ Thor followed after the super soldier, looking for the life of him confused as to why such a mild wound was concerning the physicist to this degree. Natasha locked eyes with the archer; he could see the confusion in her eyes, but none of it showed on her face.

They reached the sink and the scientist began fiddling with the knobs to get a right temperature. Clint stood awkwardly next to him. “Really, Bruce, this isn’t that serious.”

“All wounds should be taken seriously,” Bruce replied without looking up. 

“When did you become the expert?” Clint asked, his confusion slowly turning to irritation. Why was he acting like this?

Bruce straightened and gently grabbed the archer’s wrist again. “I’m the Doctor,” he answered as he put Clint’s hand under the streaming water.

As the archer drew another hissing breath in as the water hit his burn, Natasha leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest loosely. “Now isn’t exactly the time to start quoting British sci-fi shows, Bruce,” she said smoothly.

The scientist kept his hold on Clint’s arm, lest he should withdraw his hand from the water, and gazed over at the assassin against the wall.

Natasha felt her eyes widen when his eyes met hers. She saw no green in his irises, but she abruptly felt on edge. His normally deep brown eyes were suddenly streaked with thin ribbons of silver, shimmering like mercury. The tension in the air increased when she noticed that the tips of the scientist’s fingers were also a faint shade of grey. 

As Bruce returned his attention to the rushing water, Natasha stole a glance at Clint. Clint was staring down at the silvered fingertips wrapped around his wrist with wide eyes. He slowly glanced over at Natasha, as if to ask if he was seeing what he thought he saw. 

When he looked back down, the hand on his arm was back to its normal flesh color. He looked at Bruce’s face to find the man blinking rapidly. “You feeling alright, there, _Doctor?"_ he asked, emphasizing the title.

Bruce looked up at the archer with a slightly startled expression on his face before he smiled wryly. “Feeling formal today, Clint?”

There was nothing mocking in the doctor’s response; it sounded like an honestly innocent question, not at all like a mimic of the archer’s previous comment. A mildly confused look appeared on Bruce’s face when Clint stared at him in bewilderment.

Bruce nervously cleared his throat, unsure why the archer was looking at him like that, and released the arm in his grasp. “Just keep your hand under there for a bit,” he instructed in a murmur, not meeting his eyes. He had reverted back into the anxious scientist the team knew, no longer playing the part of the self-assured medical expert. “It doesn’t look too bad. The tips Tony and I designed weren’t supposed to blow up like that, just so you know.”

“I didn’t think so,” Clint replied distractedly, still staring at the man beside him.

The meek physicist glanced at each of the team members in turn, looking for the life of him as confused as they did. He cleared his throat nervously before he awkwardly patted the archer on his shoulder. “You’ll live,” he murmured. “Just wrap it up after you’ve rinsed it.”

With that, he made a hasty retreat from the strange situation.

The four teammates watched him disappear, more than likely back to the labs, before the two assassins exchanged concerned looks. 

Thor, surprisingly, was the first to break the uneasy silence between them. “Is there a Silver One that we have yet to meet?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Clint replied, still sounding mystified.

“Or his, it seems,” Natasha added quietly.

==

Two weeks passed by without another silvery incident. The four of them watched Bruce carefully for nearly two days before they began to relax again. Bruce had no idea why they kept looking at him strangely, but he tried to ignore them. He had been getting looks like that ever since his accident. He had wondered if maybe he had come close to letting the Other Guy out after the exploding arrow incident, but he knew that wasn’t the case at all. 

So when they decided to let the event slide, he did too. The whole awkwardness of the event still nagged at him, but Bruce had other more important things to focus on in the laboratories. It slipped from his mind, and everything went back to normal…or as normal as things could possibly be in the Avengers Tower.

Two weeks later, however, another strange thing happened.

It was only a few hours before dawn when the elevator dinged in the Avengers living room area. The God of Thunder stepped out with a sleepy Jane Foster, still in her overcoat. “Tonight was a lot of fun. I still can’t believe that you made the sky light up like that,” she said fondly in a quiet voice as the couple stepped through the darkened room toward the kitchen. 

“Mjölnir has many wonderful abilities, Lady Jane,” Thor replied with a smile in what he would describe as soft voice, which was really more along the lines of normal conversation.

They heard a breath, like one who was disturbed from slumber but not quite to awareness, from a nearby couch. Thor and Jane froze, remaining still until the breathing evened out again and sleep had returned. Jane silently crept forward and gazed over the back of the couch to see who they had disturbed.

Thor saw a soft smile appear on her face. She turned back to her boyfriend and mouthed _‘Bruce’_ to him before creeping back to his side. She took his hand and led him into the kitchen, where they would be able to talk quietly without waking the obviously exhausted physicist from what was probably much-needed sleep.

“Is Tony keeping him up for days on end again?” Jane asked softly once they had reached the safety of the kitchen. She started to move toward the table to sit down.

“They have indeed been working on something quite continuously for the past few days,” Thor disclosed, grabbing two water bottles from the refrigerator.

He paused when he heard Jane make a soft cooing noise. He had never heard her make such a sound before and he turned to her, looking concerned.

Thor found her staring down at sheets of paper on the table, an adorable look on her face and a sweet smile on her lips. “These are so cute!” she declared quietly. She picked one up and turned it toward her boyfriend. “Here’s one of you!”

The demigod approached the table with the two bottles of water in each hand, eager to see what had made his lady so excited.

On the slip of paper was a drawing that very loosely resembled him. The drawing had him in full warrior’s gear, cape billowing in the wind with his hammer raised high as a bolt of lightning streaked through the sky behind him. He smiled as he looked at the crudely shaped letters that formed his name and what he could only assume was an attempt to spell _Mjölnir._

As Thor gingerly took the drawing into his hands, Jane started going through the others, emitting those cooing sounds again that Thor was beginning to find utterly intoxicating. “Here’s one of Agent Romanoff…and Agent Barton—wow, look at the detail on Iron Man! This is too—” She let out a squeak that turned into a giggle. “Look at Steve! Oh! These are too precious!” She grinned up at her boyfriend. “This kid has some serious talent! This…” she paused to inspect the corner of the Captain America drawing she was holding, “Robby.” 

“Young Robby indeed has great skill!” Thor agreed heartily, moving around the table to wrap an arm around Jane and look at the other drawings.

“He has to be somewhere between six and maybe eight years old, given how he wrote his name,” Jane said as she shuffled through the papers.

A small frown appeared on her face.

Thor, in turn, frowned. “What troubles you, my lady?”

“I don’t see one of Bruce,” she answered quietly.

There indeed didn’t seem to be a sketch of Dr. Banner or the Hulk amongst the drawings. Thor’s frown deepened. The Midgardians did not seem to like Bruce, nor did they honor the Green One as the noble warrior he was. 

He was broken from his thoughts when the woman in his arms yawned. He smiled down at her as he placed a light kiss on her forehead. “Come, my lady. It is most late. Let us rest.”

Jane smiled up at him as she put the sketch in her hand down upon the surface of the table to rest amongst the rest of the papers. “Maybe there will be drawings of the Hulk someday,” she said quietly as the demigod led her toward the door.

“He is most deserving of recognition,” the God of Thunder concurred.

Jane flicked the light switch, throwing the room into darkness as they left the kitchen. They snuck with their water bottles past the sofa where Bruce was sleeping peacefully toward the elevator.

A few hours later, Steve stepped out of the elevator with a towel draped across his shoulders and a thin layer of sweat upon his brow. He was still wearing his gym clothes as he walked into the living room, slowly beginning to brighten with the first rays of dawn. He found Dr. Banner passed out on the sofa and shook his head, smiling knowingly. Tony really worked that man too hard, he thought to himself as he made his way to the kitchen.

He was about to grab a bottled water when his eyes spotted a collection of papers on the table. Curious, he made his way over to the surface. A smile crossed his face as he took in the drawings. He felt his breath hitch when he found one of himself. The piece of art consisted of him standing at the ready to toss his trademark shield. What blew him away was that the left half of the image was a black and white representation of World War II, while the other half was in full color with a backdrop of New York City. The two halves meshed together in an almost seamless blend. His blue eyes spotted a crudely spelled name in the bottom corner of the page. The child who had done this could only have been maybe seven years old. This little Robby had a great deal of talent! 

With a smile on his face, he turned to head back to the refrigerator to grab that bottled water before he made his way down to the gym for the rest of his morning workout. He paused again when he found that a drawing had slipped to the ground and was lying under the table. He knelt down to retrieve it. It had landed with the backside facing upward, where in the same messy scrawl was _“my fAmiLy.”_ He flipped the page over.

In the background stood the tower and the rest of Manhattan. He found himself staring down at five of the six Avengers; he frowned when he realized that Dr. Banner was missing. The Avengers who were present all looked happy and carefree, smiles on all of their faces.

Steve sighed in spite of the happy scene pictured. Bruce should have been included, but he supposed this seven year old Robby would be afraid of the Hulk.

He placed the drawing with the others on the table before he moved again to grab that water. Sunlight peeked over the top of a nearby building and began to illuminate the kitchen. The super soldier felt himself come to yet another stop when his eyes landed on the island separating the kitchen and the dining table.

He felt his brow furrow in confusion as he approached the marble surface. He carefully picked up the box of colored pencils lying atop the counter. That was strange… He glanced over at the drawings, thinking for a long moment, before he opened the box and studied the tips of each of the pencils. One of the pencils was missing, but even in his day, he knew that at least one pencil would always get lost. Some things never seemed to change. He noted that it was the light blue colored pencil that was missing. He grew even more confused when he realized that all of the pencils that looked especially worn were the same colors that he had seen on the drawings by Robby. 

That was when he realized that none of the drawings had been folded, as they should have been if they had come in the mail. He also realized that there wasn’t an envelope to be found either.

The drawings had been done here.

Steve continued to stare down at the box of colored pencils in his hand, looking deeply confused, when he heard movement in the next room. He realized belatedly that it was probably Bruce waking up. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt nervous, but he quickly hid the colored pencils. 

Right as he closed the refrigerator with a bottle of water in his hand, Bruce walked in. He looked groggy with sleep and his clothes were rumpled, but he still greeted the super soldier with a small smile and a sleepy “G’morning.”

Steve smiled and returned the greeting apprehensively. “Work late last night?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

The physicist made a noncommittal noise as he moved to put some water on the stove for some tea.

Steve made a humming noise of agreement, not at all sure what Bruce had meant by his response, but feeling the need to answer it somehow. He was about to turn to leave the room when he heard the scientist make a softly amused sound. He turned to find Bruce looking at the drawings on the table.

The doctor paused on the illustration of Captain America and looked up at Steve, looking more awake with a genuine smile on his face. “The Avengers have some talented fans,” he said quietly.

Steve offered a nod. “Yeah…” he replied lamely.

Bruce gave him an odd look, regarding him curiously, before he returned his focus to finding a box of teabags from the cabinets.

The super soldier took the distraction as an opportunity to make a hasty flight to the next room. He remained there for a long moment, his mind trying to make sense of the realization he couldn’t begin to understand. That table had been clear when he had gone to bed the night before. Drawings of all of them except for Bruce appear overnight, one of them with the proclamation of _“my fAmiLy”_ on the back. No way that the drawings had come in the mail.

And Bruce found sleeping in the next room.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard footsteps behind him, hardly realizing he had been standing there, lost in thought, for a few minutes. Bruce walked around him, giving him another confused glance. “Are you alright, Steve?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Steve watched the steam from Bruce’s tea dance in the air for a moment before he looked the scientist in the eye. He smiled. “Yeah…yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep too well, that’s all.”

Bruce regarded him for a moment longer, looking like he didn’t quite believe him, but not forward enough to pry for answers. Instead, he took a sedate sip of his tea and started moving toward the elevator. “I’ll see you later, I guess,” he said softly. “Have a nice morning.”

“Yeah, you too,” Steve replied. As the scientist disappeared behind the elevator doors, his blue eyes shot to the sofa. He quickly approached the couch, moving around the piece of furniture to study it. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but—

He felt his jaw drop.

The light blue colored pencil that had been missing from the box was lying on the floor next to the sofa.

==

“It’s just _weird_ , is all,” Steve said again, his eyes dropping again to study the drawing of Clint. He, Clint, Natasha, and Tony were seated at the dining table two or three hours later, the colorful pieces of paper scattered between them.

“What _I_ find weird,” Tony began, sounding only mildly peeved, “is that none of you thought to tell me about Bruce going silver until now.” He regarded the two assassins for a moment before he looked over at the captain. “Did you guys not think I’d find this interesting?”

“It was a one-time thing, Tony,” Steve explained softly, glancing up from the illustration. “It only lasted for, what,” he gazed at Natasha and Clint, “two minutes?”

“It was brief, Tony,” the archer said. He glanced down at his hand, which was healing really well. “Slightly-Silver-Bruce called himself The Doctor, and then suddenly Bruce was back, looking just as confused as the rest of us.”

“You think Bruce did these drawings?” Natasha spoke up at last, nodding down at the pictures between them.

Steve looked hopelessly confused as he shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he mumbled helplessly. “It’s just…” He let out a quick sigh. “Where did they come from? Why was Bruce sleeping in the next room, and why was there a colored pencil lying there next to the sofa?” His eyes traveled back down to the childish signature in the corner of the drawing. “I don’t know if it was him…it’s just a feeling, I guess.”

Natasha carefully reached forward and slid one of the drawings toward her, her eyes coming to a rest on the clumsy handwriting in the corner. A small crease appeared on her forehead as her brow furrowed slightly in thought. She glanced up and over at Clint. “You’ve read Bruce’s file at SHIELD, right?”

She knew he had, and he gave her a look to tell her such.

“So did we,” Steve said, gesturing between himself and Tony. “What did we miss?”

Natasha looked from Clint, to Tony, and then to Steve. “Bruce’s full name.”

Understanding dawned on the archer’s face immediately. “Oh, of course…” he groaned as he pulled the nearest drawing toward him to study the signature. “ _Rob_ by…”

“Okay, I’m still missing something,” Steve sighed, looking lost.

The two assassins looked at him. “Bruce’s full name,” Natasha began, “is Dr. _Robert_ Bruce Banner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I started working on this a LONG time ago. I still have the general idea for the whole thing up in my head. If enough people show interest in seeing this thing completed, I'll continue it.
> 
> A great deal of inspiration for this came from the psychological memoirs folks with DID have written, including _When Rabbit Howls_ by the Troops for Truddi Chase, _The Flock_ by Joan Frances Casey with Lynn Wilson, and _A Fractured Mind: My Life With Multiple Personality Disorder_ by Robert B. Oxnam.


	2. The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

Tony stepped into the laboratory, his eyes twitching over to the physicist who was entering data into the algorithm the two scientists had developed late last night…or super early this morning. Tony couldn’t remember.

Bruce looked away from the holographic computer screen and at Tony for a brief moment before he returned to his work. “I’m thinking it’s going to work this time.”

“What exactly has changed since last night, to get it to work now?” Tony asked as he moved to look at the screen.

A small, rueful smile appeared on the physicist’s lips. “It’s amazing what a little sleep can do, Tony.” He took a sip of tea and highlighted part of the formula. “That was the problem last night. We were both too exhausted to actually see it.”

“Hey, _you_ were exhausted,” Tony countered defensively. “I just wanted to see if you’d catch it, is all.”

“Oh, is that it?” Bruce inquired with a chuckle.

“Absolutely,” Tony replied. “Just testing your genius.”

Bruce laughed quietly to himself and shook his head before he picked up his ballpoint pen to return to his handwritten notes on a spiral notebook.

As his lab partner worked, Tony’s eyes followed the movement of the pen. His mind went back to the conversation he had had at the dining table earlier this morning. “Hey,” he began slowly, “do you ever draw?”

An eyebrow quirked on the doctor’s face and he actually turned away from the notepad to regard the engineer behind him curiously. “Draw?” he repeated slowly. “What, like equations or something?”

“No, no,” Tony shook his head dismissively. “Like pictures. People, y’know?”

A look of confusion appeared on the physicist’s face. He stared at Tony, who stared straight back at him, looking like he knew something that Bruce didn’t. “…no?” he said, sounding unsure of himself. “I haven’t drawn anything like that in a long time, not since I was a kid.”

His confusion rose again when Tony shrugged and moved toward his worktable. “Okay, just thought I’d ask,” the engineer replied coolly.

Bruce continued to stare at him for a long moment during the following silence. What had prompted that conversation? He suddenly felt very uneasy in this normally comfortable workspace. He slowly returned to his attention to his work, though his mind was far from focused.

“Oh, and by the way,” Tony began with a knowing grin a few minutes later without looking away from the Iron Man gauntlet he was working on. Bruce glanced warily over at him. “Steve found your colored pencil this morning. Not sure if you were missing it or not.”

When Bruce neglected to respond, Tony gazed over at his friend.

He felt his eyes widen and he flinched involuntarily. Sitting across the laboratory in Bruce’s clothes was a lean, silvery-grey man, staring straight at him with irises like mercury. The silver being looked remarkably like his lab partner, but his facial features looked younger by maybe ten, fifteen years. The grey tinges in Bruce’s hair seemed to have vanished. If he hadn’t been silver, Tony would have guessed that this was what Dr. Banner looked like in late college, while he was earning either his masters or his doctorate—

His mind paused on that final thought.

The silver man carefully readjusted the reading glasses on the end of his nose as he continued to study the engineer. “I doubt that Robby lost it, but he says ‘thank you’,” he said in a carefully articulated tongue, his stronger voice just slightly lower than Bruce’s normal mumble.

Tony stared at whoever was currently sitting on Bruce’s lab stool. “Uh…don’t mention it,” he said slowly. When the silver man smiled slightly, Tony’s brow furrowed. “You’re…you’re the Doctor?” he ventured.

The silver man’s smile widened a little and he offered a solemn nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark,” he replied politely. He looked like he wanted to stand for a moment to shake Tony’s hand, but a flicker of knowing crossed his face as he glanced down at his grey hand. The hand slowly closed and fell into his lap before his silvery eyes returned to Tony’s.

Tony had no idea how to continue this conversation. He found himself unable to do anything but stare, and for what felt like the first time in his life, he was speechless.

The Doctor released a tired sigh. “I knew I shouldn’t have helped Agent Barton,” he said quietly to himself. His eyes lowered as a mildly-bitter smirk crossed his face, a small huff of a laugh escaping from him. “And I told Robby to clean up after himself.”

Tony finally found his voice. “Clint would say otherwise, and those drawings were really good,” he replied. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Why are you hiding from us?”

“It’s not just from the team,” the Doctor answered, glancing back at the engineer, “but from Dr. Banner as well.”

As if he wasn’t confused before, he was downright stupefied now. “Um, why?” Tony asked.

The Doctor folded his silvered hands in his lap, glancing down momentarily before looking back to the engineer. “Dr. Banner has enough to deal with in his struggles against the Protector. He does not need the rest of us interfering with his life as well.” His eyes fell again. “Not anymore.”

Tony felt his brow furrow slightly. “The Protector…what, the Hulk?”

Silver eyes returned to the engineer, a vague look of amusement on his face. “As you and the rest of the world have come to know him, yes,” the Doctor replied. “There has been a constant struggle between Dr. Banner and the Protector since the accident. Before, Dr. Banner did not know of our existence, and it is imperative that—”

“Wait, _before?_ ” Tony cut in. “You mean to say that the Hulk _wasn’t_ a result of the gamma radiation?”

“No,” the silvery man answered calmly. “The Protector was there long before the accident. The radiation simply gave him his form and…” he trailed off, as if unsure how to properly articulate his thoughts into words. “Dr. Banner is now fully aware of the Protector; he can feel the Protector lurking in the back of his mind. It would be for the best if Dr. Banner did not have awareness of the rest of us.”

Tony studied the grey man with narrowed eyes. “The rest of you…” he repeated slowly. “How many more of you are there? And how long have you been in Bruce’s head?”

The Doctor offered a small smile, the same kind that would appear on Bruce’s face from time to time. “That is a question for Archives, not I,” he answered patiently. He turned to gaze at the notebook at his side on the table, regarding it with passing interest. “As it is, however, I really must return inside. Dr. Banner doesn’t like losing time.” His eyes returned for a moment as his skin slowly began to regain some fleshy color. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark, and I would ask that you do not mention this conversation to Dr. Banner. Please, do not pry further into his psyche. Good day.”

“Hey,” Tony said quickly, holding up a hand. “Hey, wait!”

He paused when the silver disappeared completely from his lab partner’s tanned skin and the physicist quickly returned to himself. The man slumped for a moment on the stool, looking disoriented, before his brown eyes found Tony staring at him. The physicist blinked at him for a moment, confusion appearing on his features.

Bruce smiled uneasily and a nervous laugh escaped from him. “I…” he began quietly, still looking confused. “I’m sorry, my mind must have wandered. Did you ask me something?”

Tony continued to stare at the scientist across the room from him, trying to make sense of everything he had just seen and heard. Bruce had no idea what had just happened; that much was obvious by the expectant look on the scientist’s face as he stared at him. The engineer suddenly realized that he now knew a very intimate detail about his friend’s life that he himself didn’t seem to know. 

When the silence began to get awkwardly long, Tony shook himself out of his reverie and smiled at Bruce. “I was just asking when you used to draw as a kid, where you would usually do it.”

Bruce chuckled and some of that anxiousness retreated from his face. “Are we still on that topic?” he asked.

“Humor me,” Tony said, his neutral expression betraying nothing of the intense curiosity burning beneath the surface.

Something in the physicist’s countenance darkened and a quality close to emptiness entered his gaze. “The kitchen table,” he replied in a closed-off voice, “when it was still safe to.”

==

“So you’ll never believe who I just had a chat with.”

Steve stilled the punching bag he had been wailing on and glanced over to see Tony sauntering into the gym. The sparring match between the two SHIELD agents came to a pause as well within the boxing ring.

“Please tell me you didn’t confront him about this morning,” Steve said with wariness in his voice, eyes following the engineer as he came to a stop by the ring.

“Bet _that_ was an interesting conversation,” Clint muttered before he took a swig from his water bottle. 

Tony leaned against the ropes. “Bruce didn’t really have much to say about that, actually. _The Doctor_ , on the other hand…” He smirked when the archer sputtered.

“You’re kidding,” the soldier breathed.

Natasha gave the archer a firm clap on the back to keep him from choking on his water. “You actually met him?”

“Indeed, I did,” Tony replied. He tossed a glance over at Steve. “You better enjoy this, Pops, because you’re never going to hear it again from me: you were right. We’ve got a Sybil on our hands.”

“A what?” the super-soldier questioned as he stepped away from the punching bag toward the boxing ring. 

“Classic case of dissociative identity disorder,” Natasha explained.

“Formerly known as multiple personality disorder,” Clint added.

“And probably a little bit after your time, Cap,” Tony pinned on. “Brief summary is that basically when someone, usually a child, experiences a traumatic event, part of them splinters off to cope with said trauma, creating a new personality. And from my quick conversation with the Doctor, Bruce has at least four personalities drifting up in his head.”

“Four?” Clint repeated in question. “Hulk, Doc, and Robby make three. Did he mention another?”

Tony nodded. “Dude named Archives. Apparently he knows how many personalities are running around in there.”

“And Bruce has no idea,” Natasha said. The conversation instantly went dead for several moments as they each tried to parse through all of this new information on their teammate, and just what they were supposed to do with that information. 

“Bruce doesn’t know,” Tony confirmed after a few more quiet seconds, “and the Doctor doesn’t want him to know.”

“I agree with him,” Natasha replied. “Bruce has obviously been able to function just fine without the knowledge of his other personalities. He’s been dealing with this since he was a kid, if Robby is anything to go by. I say we just leave it alone.”

“You aren’t the least bit curious?” Tony asked, looking straight at the assassin.

Natasha’s eyes met his evenly. “This is Bruce’s mind that we’re discussing, Stark, not one of your experiments to poke and prod at.”

“I know that—” Tony began, sounding offended.

“Then leave well enough alone,” Natasha concluded in a tone that meant the end of discussion.

The billionaire wouldn’t be shaken so easily. “And what? Just wait for them to come out on their own? You met Slightly-Silver-Bruce; I met the real deal. Another one of them was hanging out in the kitchen, doodling while we were sleeping. Don’t you want to know who else we may be dealing with?”

“At what cost?” Clint asked, sounding remarkably subdued. A quick glance over at him told Tony that he was no doubt thinking about what Loki had done while tampering with his mind. There was no way he’d wish that on anyone else, no matter the intentions.

Tony could hardly believe it. He turned to look at Steve, to see if he was outnumbered. “Captain?” he asked a little harshly.

Steve glanced between the three of them, still looking a little confused by the whole situation. He kept his silence for a moment longer, thinking carefully before he spoke. “…I think we should just leave it be, Stark.” Before Tony could argue, he continued. “But if we do meet any of his other personalities—” He was obviously still trying to come to grips with that notion “—we should treat them as individuals. We can’t walk up to Bruce and call him Robby, or vice versa. We should keep them separate, and respect the Doctor’s wishes.” His countenance took a more solemn turn. “We’ll need to see how this affects the team, as well. That sound fair?” he asked the group at large.

“There is no way in hell that we’re telling SHIELD,” Tony growled.

“I never said that,” the soldier replied reassuringly. “We just need to keep an eye on the situation…there may be another Hulk-like personality in there that we need to be potentially ready for.”

“Archives or the Doctor would know,” Tony pointed out.

Natasha shot him a look. “Don’t go looking for them, Stark.”

“I can’t believe you guys aren’t more curious,” the engineer said to the group. 

“We _are_ curious,” Clint began, “we just have the self-control to keep that curiosity at bay. Think about how Banner has reacted to the Hulk, Stark. How would he react to finding out he’s sharing a body with more people?”

“So we do this carefully,” Tony replied airily.

“You don’t _do_ careful,” Natasha shot back.

“Tony,” Steve cut in before another argument could get underway, “just give it some time. We need Bruce to stick around for the sake of the team. We can’t have you upsetting the balance he’s been trying to maintain just to sate your curiosity.” He looked earnestly at the billionaire. “Please, don’t go messing with his head.”

==

Even after an hour, the anger still continued to flow through the engineer’s veins. He was glaring heatedly at the blueprints to the suit’s gauntlet, but his mind was wandering. That meeting really hadn’t gone as he had expected. Why weren’t they more curious about this new development with Banner? He realized that it was dangerous ground to be treading upon; the guy’s file was practically filled to bursting with a traumatic past. He knew what he was getting into. 

“You’re looking pretty intense, there.”

Tony broke away from his thoughts at the sound of Bruce’s voice coming from just over his shoulder. Before he could turn to greet the man, a mug of coffee was placed upon the lab table. “Trouble with some of the schematics,” the engineer replied. It wasn’t a complete lie.

Bruce hummed thoughtfully and took a sip from his own mug of tea. “So, uh…I heard you had a little tiff with Natasha earlier.”

That made Tony turn.

The physicist glanced down at him from behind his reading glasses. “Well, a disagreement, anyway…” he amended with a shrug.

Tony let out an aggravated sigh and took a drink of the coffee. He felt his eyebrows rise and he smirked at the doctor. “I don’t know whether I should be flattered or frightened that you know how I take my coffee.”

As Bruce grinned a little to himself, Tony put down the cup and turned to scrutinize his blueprints again with a frown. “Natasha doesn’t seem to think I know how to proceed with an experiment carefully.”

“Well, you don’t exactly scream _careful,_ ” Bruce admitted quietly.

A frustrated noise escaped from the engineer. “Not you, too!”

“But I think when it comes to your work, you can be,” the doctor continued. “I know the others haven’t seen it, but if they came down here from time to time, they’d see the precision you use while working. You know how to be careful, even if you don’t like others to know it.” He paused to take another sip of his steaming tea before he nodded toward the blueprints. “Anything I can help with?”

The doctor’s words tumbled around in the engineer’s head as he stared through the blueprints again. Bruce knew he was careful when he wanted to be. “Bruce, what would you do? You have this experiment with high stakes, and your peers tell you not to proceed…”

“Since when do you ever listen to your peers?” Bruce asked with a mild smirk.

“I’m talking _really_ high stakes,” Tony said, looking pointedly up at Banner.

Bruce was silent for a moment, simply staring down at the billionaire, who was being unnaturally serious. “Well…” he began after another moment, “personally, if I knew the stakes were so high, I would be extra careful, proceed with caution, and know when to stop if I needed to.” He paused to allow his eyes to drift away and smiled a little self-depreciatingly. “Learned that the hard way, I suppose…” he muttered. When he returned his gaze to the engineer, he offered a little shrug. “Just trust your judgment, Tony. In the end, you’ll do what’s right.”

As his eyes followed the physicist’s movements to the other side of the lab, Tony’s mind was all a whirl. He knew that he shouldn’t be taking the scientist’s words to heart when he didn’t know that the experiment in question was about _himself,_ but the comments resonated regardless. He glanced down into the depths of his coffee for a moment, and then back up at Bruce. “You really think that?” he asked.

Bruce looked away from getting his workspace in order and gave the engineer a reassuring smile. “I do,” he replied genuinely, his warm brown eyes meeting evenly with Tony’s. “Your heart is usually in the right place, even when your head isn’t. Just don’t let your curiosity blot out your better judgment.” His smile turned a little amused. “For example, I’m a bit curious as to what this experiment of yours is, but considering that it has ticked off the Black Widow, I’m going to listen to my self-preservation instincts and _not_ ask. Just…just don’t proceed simply to prove Natasha and the others wrong.”

“But it is _so_ very tempting,” Tony joked. At the mockingly warning glare the physicist gave him, Tony waved away his concern. “Alright, alright, I think I can handle that.”

Seeming to be satisfied with that, Bruce gave the man another smile before he got to work.

Tony returned his eyes to his own work as well, though his mind was elsewhere. It still felt vaguely wrong to be taking Bruce’s words to heart, but Bruce knew him better than the other Avengers. If there was one thing that the man would never lie about simply for the sake of reassuring a friend, it was lab procedures. If the physicist believed he could be careful, then he knew it was possible. 

The shroud of self-doubt was lifted, and Tony felt remarkably better. He took another drink of the coffee, made exactly to his tastes. He had strategies to come up with.


	3. Stratagems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

Two weeks passed, and Tony hadn’t had another meeting with Bruce’s other personalities, and not for lack of trying. The billionaire was being as discrete as possible, which when he put his mind to it, could be pretty damn discrete. He had read up on dissociative identity disorder in private, and had asked cautious questions centered on medicine, artistry, and books (for the benefit of the unknown Archives).

None of the personalities raised to the bait, but he did get to learn a bit more about Bruce. The questions lead to them having conversations about some of their favorite novels and artists, as well as a few stories from Bruce about his doctoring practices while on the run. Tony was always up to learning more about his friend; the man was still adapting to living with people in something other than the slums, so it was awesome that he was opening up enough to divulge information about himself. So caught up in their conversation, Tony almost forgot what his intentions with his questions were.

Almost.

So when that didn’t work, he stepped it up a notch. The questions got a little bit blunter, as well as the actions.

He cursed his impatience when his motives were discovered by the Black Widow. The assassin had stepped into the lab to drag them both up to the meeting they were late to (Fury had not been happy when JARVIS had informed him that he had been muted in the lab). She paused in the open doorway when she walked into a conversation between the two men, where the physicist questioned Tony’s interest in how old he was when he used to enjoy drawing. Natasha’s eyes had immediately narrowed on the engineer, but her expression went neutral once Bruce glanced over and greeted her. Tony was saved from having to answer Bruce’s question, but he was subjected to the Black Widow’s terrifying glare during the entirety of the meeting with a disgruntled Fury and the rest of the Avengers.

The next day, as Tony stepped into the shared lab with a new set of questions on the tip of his tongue, he faltered. There sat Natasha, a cup of steaming tea in her hands, on a stool with a lab table between herself and Banner. Bruce was hunched minutely, a conscious effort to make himself seem smaller, and talking civilly with the assassin. The grip on his own mug was a little too tight, a clear sign that the physicist was unnerved that the Widow had, by her own volition, willingly sought him out and was making idle chit-chat with him. The tension between them was still thick, but it wasn’t nearly as smothering as it had been when they had all moved into the tower. For as relaxed as Natasha’s demeanor seemed to be, and how convincing it looked, Tony knew that Banner wasn’t so easily fooled.

Bruce looked openly relieved at the opportunity to escape from Natasha’s complete focus and jumped at the chance when the engineer entered the room. “Tony!” he said almost too loudly in greeting. He winced at his own volume. “I was just explaining some of the new arrowheads that we were working on yesterday.”

Tony turned a faux-surprised look on the assassin, who met his gaze almost in challenge. “Is that so?” the engineer asked.

“It is,” Natasha answered coolly, setting down the tea to lift a stray arrowhead from the table between herself and the physicist. “It’s rare to see Clint get so genuinely excited about anything.” She twisted the shell of the arrowhead in her fingers, eyeing it analytically. “He mentioned something about arrows with a spray of chemicals upon impact?”

“Nothing lethal, though,” Bruce said, before he and a reluctant and suspicious Tony began to explain the mechanics of the different arrowheads they were still creating for the team’s archer. The three of them discussed other plans, Natasha offering her own ideas for arrowheads that would have helped out a great deal in past SHIELD missions. 

It was maybe half an hour later before JARVIS interrupted them. _“Sir, Mr. Odinson is asking permission to enter the laboratory.”_

“Better open up before he tears the door down,” Tony muttered in reply without looking away from the screen he had open as he designed new housing units in the arrowheads.

The conversation was officially over, and not a moment later, the doors slid open and Thor strode in. “Good morrow, dear friends!” He was dressed as casually as a demigod could be, but even in a jacket and jeans, he still looked like a force of nature. “I was hoping the good doctor would be willing to accompany me on a journey in search of your Midgardian literature.”

Bruce at once looked both a little surprised and a little suspicious to be so elegantly invited to go to a book store or a library or wherever it was Thor was wishing to go. “Um…sure, Thor.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed slightly and he shot a look over at Natasha. Somehow, even as she stared at Thor, he _knew_ that she had set this up. Good God, they were going to start _babysitting_ the man to keep him from asking his questions! 

He scowled at her for all of a second before he glanced at Thor, who was rejoicing Bruce’s affirmative answer. “You _do_ know that JARVIS has unlimited access to just about every book ever written, right?”

“Ah,” Thor began, raising one finger in a sage-like manner, “but it would not be a journey if the literature was already in hand.”

“It’s not the same, either,” Bruce added as he looked over at Tony. “There’s something comforting about reading a text from a physical book and being able to flip actual pages.”

Tony placed a hand over his arc reactor and tilted his head toward the ceiling. “Et tu, Bruce? And here I thought we were kindred souls…” He smirked at the sound of Bruce’s amused chuckle. “Alright, go get your outdated paperbacks. Thor, buddy, I’m introducing you to the world of ebooks sometime.”

“I shall look forward to such a day,” Thor replied with a grin as he turned to leave.

Bruce started to follow and glanced over his shoulder at Tony and Natasha. “See you guys later, I guess.”

And with that, the God of Thunder and the physicist stepped out of the lab, taking with them the lightness and camaraderie in the air. The area suddenly felt cold and tense as Tony’s eyes darted over to the assassin, who was already staring at him with an eerily blank expression on her face.

“Hey, congrats, you separated us,” Tony began in an unfriendly tone. “Next time you think Banner needs a babysitter, maybe choose someone who doesn’t make him uneasy.” It was a low blow, but he was pissed.

The narrowing of her eyes was the only thing that changed on Natasha’s countenance. “What makes you think we’re babysitting just _him?”_

“Oh, even better! You enlist Barton and Cap, too?” Tony shot back.

Something like irritation appeared in her eyes. “You need to stop trying to coax out his personalities, Stark. We don’t want to see him get hurt.”

A bitter laugh escaped from Tony. “Your ideas of protection are a bit off, Agent Romanoff. Your _friendliness_ today was an underhanded scheme, an outright _lie._ Yeah, that’ll help him.”

He knew he hit the nail on the head by how that little hint of emotion faded from her eyes, leaving her looking blank again. “The sooner you drop the topic, the sooner we’ll leave you and him alone. Until then—” she slid off of the stool and stood perfectly poised “—be prepared to see us around more often.”

As she made her way toward the door, Tony leaned against a lab station. “At least then you all will _finally_ start interacting more with the guy.”

Natasha didn’t even pause as she exited the room.

==

For a woman who based her career on lying, she made good on her word. Sure enough, whenever Bruce and Tony went to go work in the labs, their babysitter wasn’t far behind. Clint was, by far, the best of the four other teammates at this, as he stayed out of the way and nearly silent. Steve tried to, as he had taken to an empty lab table to sketch on, but he would usually pop into their conversations in an attempt to understand whatever it was they were working on. Thor was very much the same, reading through the anthologies that he had bought on his outing with Bruce, but he, too, wished to learn more about the ‘Midgardian ways of technology.’ Bruce, the ever-patient helpful man that he was, would try to explain. It simply irritated Tony, for it threw them off their groove. 

And Natasha still made Bruce uneasy. She was just like Clint, but the doctor was always completely aware of her presence.

So it went on for the next week or so. Tony couldn’t so much as ask a question regarding Bruce’s life before the whole Chitauri invasion without their on-duty babysitter ready to jump in. Bruce was initially surprised to see their teammates willing to spend time in the labs with them, but the more time that passed, the more suspicious and uneasy he became. 

And it frustrated Tony _to no end._ Not only were they sabotaging his experiment, but they were sabotaging their own chance to befriend the guy. 

As he tried to block out Bruce’s attempts to explain quantum entanglement to Thor, the physicist’s words began to repeat themselves in the engineer’s head, about _curiosity_ and _better judgment._ About how despite them knowing each other for less than half a year, Bruce seemed to have a better read on him than people he had known for years. About how while his head wasn’t always in the right place, his heart was.

He came to a decision.

Tony stood up and stormed out of the lab, not looking back when Bruce’s explanation cut off mid-sentence, only to be replaced with a concerned “Tony?” 

He found Natasha with Clint in the communal dining room, looking over SHIELD files. They both looked up at Tony when he paused in the doorframe, glaring daggers at the redhead. 

“Fine,” Tony conceded ungracefully and not without anger. “No more trying to speak to the other personalities. Now _stop supervising us._ You’re making him uncomfortable, and you are _ruining_ any sort of chances of turning him into anything more than a reluctant teammate.”

Clint’s brow furrowed slightly. “Are you really giving up already?”

Tony’s glare shifted to the archer and let out an angry, beaten sigh. “This needs to end. If my defeat means Bruce can be comfortable in his home and salvaging any of the bonds you all had started to form with him, so be it. So there.” He turned his eyes back to Natasha. “You win. Now back off.”

“Do I have your word that you’ll stop?” Natasha asked.

A noise akin to a growl escaped from the engineer, but he reluctantly nodded. “Yeah. Now, do I have _your_ word you’ll stop babysitting us? He’s a grown-ass man; if I make him uncomfortable, he’ll let me know. Believe me, he has before.”

Natasha offered a single nod. “Thank you, Stark.”

The stare-down between the two of them lasted a few moments longer before Tony huffed irritably. He stormed off, muttering ideas about how to get Thor out of the lab so the two scientists could get back to work.

When he got back to the laboratory, both Thor and Bruce gave him concerned looks. “Is all well?” the God of Thunder inquired.

“All is just peachy,” Tony replied easily. He looked directly at the demigod. “I think Natasha’s looking for you. Something about wanting to tell you about the time she was an undercover agent to watch me and Pepper a few years back.”

“She was sent to spy on you?” Thor asked.

“Yeah, and she seemed pretty dead-set on telling you all about it in painful detail. She was in the kitchen last I saw her.” It was a poorly disguised dismissal that anyone could see through.

The look that the demigod gave him told him as much. He played along anyway. “Well, if she is _insistent…”_

“Downright _eager,”_ Tony added and made a shooing gesture toward the door. “Better hurry; you don’t want to keep a lady waiting.”

It seemed too below the Asgardian prince’s status to roll his eyes, but nothing kept him from giving the engineer a belittling and vaguely amused eye. “Very well,” he replied. He gave Bruce a light pat on the shoulder (Tony beamed internally when the physicist’s response was only a mild flinch), and excused himself from the laboratory.

Bruce’s eyes followed the demigod out the door before glancing over at Tony, a brow quirked in inquiry. Tony simply gave the man an overly relieved expression before he settled himself back at his work station. 

A few minutes passed quietly between the two. In his periphery, Tony could see Bruce look up from his notes toward the door occasionally. Finally, the man took off his glasses and began to fiddle with them. “Are we to expect any more visitors?” the physicist asked mildly.

Tony felt more disappointed in the team’s discretion than proud that Bruce had known what was going on. A genius-level intellect wouldn’t have been needed to have seen what they were doing. He shrugged, but didn’t turn. “Nope. I’ve had my fill of listening to you try to dumb down our projects for the non-English speakers.”

“What did you have to promise Natasha to stop the babysitting?” Bruce asked.

“My firstborn and her own suit,” Tony quipped. He shifted on the lab stool and made a show of the “picture this” gesture with his hands. “I’m calling it _Iron Widow_. It’ll be _sexy.”_ He turned a grin on the physicist and faltered only slightly when he saw the serious look on Bruce’s face. Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. “I told her I’d back off on my experiment if she and the others would back off on babysitting duty.”

Bruce’s eyebrow quirked again. “You’re giving up?” he questioned in skepticism.

“Oh please,” Tony scoffed and turned back around to face his work once more, “I’m just changing tactics.”

He just needed to figure out what that new tactic was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the wait! This chapter was going to have a LOT more, but this seemed like a good place to stop. The next chapter will be longer, I promise.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and feedback is always welcome!


	4. The Protector

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

The next few days passed by quietly. The others still came down to the laboratory from time to time, to drag them away for “team building activities,” as Captain Rogers had so aptly called them, or for team kitchen excursions, or in layman’s terms, “dinner.” The two scientists were finally working without constant interruptions again, and for that, Tony was grateful.

And then the call came in about some whackjob with an army of half-robotic, half-reptilian creatures, tearing apart a city further inland from the coast New York. In the half-hour it took for the Avengers to fly out there, the villain of the week had managed to wreck a good chuck of the downtown area and was working toward the university. 

It was less than an ideal fight, with at least two dozen casualties and a great deal of structural damage to the surrounding city (damage that could not be entirely blamed on the villain), but in the end, the bad guy and his army of robo-crocs were taken down. As the SHIELD officers began clearing away the villain’s soldiers, the exhausted Avengers reconvened. Hawkeye climbed down from his location, Tony managed to talk the Hulk into letting the physicist back out, and Thor promptly caught said physicist from face-planting onto the asphalt when, mid-transformation, Bruce lost consciousness. 

All-in-all, the mission was a standard success for the Avengers. They were still learning the fighting dynamics of each of the other members, so they were still a bit rough around the edges and there was a great deal of room for improvement, but they got the job done. 

Fury told them as much during the debriefing upon their arrival to the Helicarrier. They were still battle-weary, and Tony honestly had no idea why it was so imperative that they do the debriefing now as opposed to the following day. They went around the table in a twisted show-and-tell of their version of the fight, ranging from purely tactical (Clint, Natasha, and Steve) to theatrical (Tony and Thor). 

Once Fury cut off Thor’s stirring retelling of the day’s battle, the attention was turned to Dr. Banner, who looked half-asleep in his seat. “…I think the Other Guy went underwater at some point…?” Bruce said raggedly, his rough voice rising at the end with uncertainty, and then was silent.

When the man didn’t continue and silence continued to reign over the table, it quickly became apparent that that was his only recollection from the fight at this point. The memories always seemed to return during the hours after a battle, once he had slept and gotten out of his post-Hulk funk.

Tony jumped in to end the silence that was becoming awkward. “Yeah, Big Green jumped into the drink to take some of the bogeys in the canal.”

Fury glanced down at a sheet of paper in front of him. “Yes, but not before he did some severe damage to one of the city’s landmarks.”

Bruce hummed dazedly. “I guess he and I don’t share similar tastes in architecture.”

Oh yeah, if he was making jokes about the Hulk, he was still in that delirious phase. 

Steve cleared his throat on the other side of the table, a polite and effective way to turn the conversation away from the physicist. “Your reason for bringing up that particular detail, sir?”

Fury glanced back at Dr. Banner for a moment before addressing the group at large. “It is apparent that you are all beginning to work much better together as a team. However, that cohesiveness that every team needs is not quite there yet.” He paused to turn his eye to the super soldier. “I understand your team-building activities are lacking a member, Captain.”

Steve’s brow furrowed for a moment. 

“No.”

All eyes immediately shot back to Dr. Banner, who was looking directly at Fury with a startling amount of clarity on his otherwise dazed countenance. Despite the obvious exhaustion that was written blatantly across his features, the physicist remained remarkably firm in holding the director’s gaze. “I am not going to let the Other Guy out without something to aim him at. I’m not going to risk him doing any harm to the rest of the team.”

“How else is he to learn how to fight with the team properly?” Fury replied. “This is not up for debate, Dr. Banner. The Hulk needs to train with the team, both on and off the battlefield. These interactions will take place in a controlled environment to ensure the public’s safety—”

“And what of their safety?” Bruce interrupted with a mild gesture around the group. At the downright irritated look from the director at being cut off, the physicist sighed and let his hand fall to the surface of the table. “Let me at least put together some sort of sedative that would knock him out in case he does get out of hand. That way, everyone’s safe.”

“I’ll help,” Tony added easily.

Fury glanced between the two scientists before fixing the physicist with a glare. “You have two weeks, Banner. If you have nothing by then, we’ll use what we have on file as a sedative.” He didn’t miss the way Bruce’s countenance darkened, or the short-lived flash of green that brightened his irises for the briefest of moments. The director returned his attention to the group at large. “Dismissed.”

==

The following day, Tony found Bruce in the laboratory, looking a little worse for ware, but it was to be expected on the day after a transformation. The stiff movements usually lasted for a full day or two, or longer, depending on how fiercely the Hulk had fought in the battle.

The physicist looked up when the laboratory doors opened, announcing the engineer’s arrival. His body movements appeared weary, but his eyes were sharp.

“Any thoughts on the sedative yet?” Tony asked. He set down the cup of tea he had brought with him on Bruce’s work station, his eyes scanning over the notes strewn about.

Bruce smiled his thanks and readjusted his reading glasses. “A few, actually,” he admitted. “With how easily you managed to break into SHIELD during the whole Loki thing, I figure breaking into Army files ought to be a no-brainer for you.”

Tony felt his eyebrows rise and he turned an appraising look on his lab partner. “Why Dr. Banner, are you encouraging me to hack the United States Army?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t before,” Bruce replied easily. “I figure we can just alter one of the sedatives Ross has used on me in the past to get the result we need instead of making something from scratch. I _would_ do that, if Fury didn’t want the Other Guy to train with the team so soon.”

The engineer brought up some specs on a nearby screen. “Hey JARVIS, when was the last time we hacked the government?”

_“Which branch, sir?”_

As Bruce muffled a quiet laugh behind his hand, Tony smirked. “We’ll be in in no time, Big Guy,” he announced. His eyes trailed over the paper notes again, taking in year ranges. “So, what have you got so far?”

The physicist picked up one note pad, the one that Tony had been glancing at, and handed it to him. “Nothing too scientific, I’m afraid.” He picked up the warm ceramic mug of tea and wrapped his hands around it. “Just whatever vague remembrances I have of certain sedatives that Ross has fired at the Other Guy and I over the years and whatever effects I remember.”

Tony looked up as Bruce took a sip of tea. “Most of these were fired at the Hulk, right?”

Bruce nodded and set the cup aside. “I had no idea you knew how to make chamomile tea,” he said softly with a smile. His eyes moved to the progress bar JARVIS had put on the screen. “But yes, whatever memories I have of most of these sedatives are from the Other Guy and the aftereffects I had upon waking up. It’ll at least narrow down which formulas we look at that the army has to offer.”

As the physicist began to busy himself with other notes upon his desk, Tony looked back at the note pad in his hands. None of the sedatives sounded very pleasant, from what the loose handwriting described. “Are you sure you want to use one of Ross’ formulas? I mean, he was never exactly trying to be humane about his methods…”

“Hence why we’re altering them,” Bruce replied without looking up. “I have no intention of subjecting myself or the Other Guy to those sedatives willingly. I just want something effective that will keep you all safe until we come up with something else.” He cleared his throat and pulled up a blueprint on the screen. “Now, about the application of said sedative…”

==

“Can I just say for the record how bad of an idea this is?”

The team had just been dropped off in the middle of a clearing in the forest. There wasn’t a single living soul for miles, save for the team—Fury had made sure of that. They were somewhere toward the border between Canada and the United States, and the nearest place of civilized life wasn’t for at least six miles all around. The sedative, which had been completed within the two week deadline, was currently housed in one of Hawkeye’s arrowheads that had been rigged to release the formula in vapor form, as the Hulk’s skin was very near impenetrable. At least there was nothing stopping the rage monster from breathing in the sedative, which was probably the best way to get the sedative into his system. The precautions for the entire outing seemed a bit much to Tony, and they seemed to do little to soothe Bruce’s nerves.

Tony rolled his eyes and leaned against a tree, his Iron Man helmet tucked under his arm and against his hip. “You’ve only been saying that the entire trip, not to mention the past two weeks while working on Big Green’s knock-out gas.”

Bruce glanced over at the man, clad in his iron suit. The others were scattered about the clearing, all dressed in their own particular armor and with their weapons easily within reach. The physicist continued to wring his hands together for a moment longer, and then took off his glasses with a shaky hand. “Well, it bears repeating,” he murmured. He reluctantly handed over his glasses to Tony, who put them in a compartment in his suit for safe keeping.

“Relax, Doc,” Clint demurred from a nearby tree he had climbed. He patted the quiver on his back. “He’ll be sleeping like a baby before things get out of hand.”

The look Bruce gave him was less than reassured. He had no doubts about the arrowhead that he and Tony had developed to deliver the sedative, but the whole idea of the archer having to use it made him worry.

Still, they were all there for a reason, and as much as he would have loved to back out of it, he didn’t want to have made the entire team make the trip for nothing.

With a shaky exhale, Bruce kicked off his shoes and began to unbutton his shirt. He tossed the article of clothing on top of the discarded shoes and started to walk away from the group, pausing only briefly to shoot Tony a resigned look.

The rest of the team watched their resident gamma expert step barefoot over fallen pine needles without pause and come to a stop not too far away with his back to them. They remained quiet, giving the man his silence to gather his thoughts and courage before he willingly let go of something he had always kept locked so tightly inside him for so long.

They only waited for maybe half a minute before the man bowed his head. Bruce’s hands slowly clenched into tight fists, and then the familiar shade of green was suddenly spreading all over his body. The muscles across his back expanded as he grew. The sounds of the forest were interrupted with the painful noises of the transformation, bones growing and snapping and resetting all throughout the scientist’s shifting body. The pants he was wearing tore a bit around his calves as he continued to grow.

It took only a matter of seconds before the Hulk lifted his head, the transformation complete.

No matter how many times he had seen the transformation, it never ceased to amaze Tony. How such a behemoth of power and rage fit within the mild mannered, sharp-witted scientist he knew was beyond him.

Tony pushed himself off of the tree he had been leaned against. There was a soft noise of pine needles shifting under his metal boots, and the Hulk instantly turned with a sharp snarl.

Ignoring how tense his other teammates became at the sudden reaction, Tony grinned and approached the green giant standing in their midst. “Hey, Big Guy,” he said casually.

The Hulk’s fists loosened when he recognized either the suit or the engineer. He huffed and looked around, his eyes easily finding each of the other Avengers and taking in the surroundings. A mild expression of confusion appeared on his face when no sort of danger made itself known. A quick sniff of the air seemed to confirm it. He turned a curious look down at Tony. “No fight?” he rumbled.

“Not this time, buddy,” Tony replied.

The Hulk regarded his teammates almost warily. “Then why Hulk out?”

“What, you don’t want to spend time with us?” Tony answered melodramatically in inquiry. “I’m wounded, Big Green.” At the Hulk’s unamused snort, Tony continued. “Well, we’ve realized that we haven’t been able to hang out with you outside of battle yet. We wanted to interact with you in a calm setting, where we aren’t endangering our lives and fighting super-villains.”

A few moments passed with the Hulk simply staring down at Tony before he looked up at the other Avengers again. “In-ter-act,” the green goliath repeated, articulating each syllable carefully.

It occurred to Tony that the big guy had probably never heard the word before through his own ears, let alone said it himself. He found himself thinking back to something the Doctor had said during their brief meeting. The Hulk, or the Protector, as the personality had called him, had been in Bruce’s head long before the accident. 

Just how long was that…?

Tony blinked from his thoughts and nodded. “Yeah, interact, like getting to know you. Team practices, talking, you know.”

The Hulk snorted again and looked off into the wooded surroundings. “Talking,” he scoffed. “Banner talk. Hulk smash.” That was said like it was just the way things were, how they were supposed to be, how they have always been and always would be.

“Yes, and you’re very good at smashing,” Tony rejoined, “but you can talk, too. Have you ever had anyone to talk to?”

Another brief silence passed between the small gathering, interspersed with only the sounds of nature within the forest. It was hard to tell, but it appeared that the Hulk was musing over Tony’s question. After another moment, the Hulk glanced back down at the man clad in the armor again. “No one talk to Hulk.”

“Well, you’ve got me now, and the rest of the Avengers,” Tony said with certainty and a gesture toward where the others stood. “We want to get to know you, like we’re getting to know Bruce. I don’t want us to just be teammates; I want us to be friends.”

Anger flashed into being within the Hulk’s eyes. _“Not team?!”_ he boomed hurriedly, his voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

“No, no!” Tony replied quickly. “No, we’re still teammates, Hulk! We just want to be friends, too. Both, together.” He put his index fingers together in demonstration; it felt like a useless gesture, but his hands were restless. “Understand?”

The Hulk’s brow creased into an expression that was very much a Bruce expression, as if he really didn’t understand. Something in Tony’s chest fell a little. “Friends?”

“Of course I want to be your friend,” the engineer answered with heartfelt honesty. He looked over his shoulder at the others, who were watching the interaction closely. “So do they. They’re just a bit more skittish than I am.”

At the mention of the other four teammates, the Hulk glanced over at them. He eyed them each for a long moment, something like disbelief and suspicion in his eyes. “Team want to be friends?”

“Aye,” Thor answered with a solemn nod. He stepped across the clearing and approached the giant green man. “I am proud to fight by your side as an ally, but it would be an honor to call you a friend.”

“Tony’s right,” Steve joined in as he walked across the way as well and addressed the Hulk. “All we know about you is that you’re one hell of a fighter; we really know practically nothing about you yourself. Team-building exercises are best for all seven of us, you and Bruce included.”

The Hulk didn’t seem to know what to do with all of the non-hostile attention. He warily eyed Thor and Steve, who were standing just behind Tony, before he gave the engineer a mildly distressed look.

Tony took the hint. They needed to go slow, to build the big guy’s trust outside of battle. The Hulk knew how to fight, there was no question about that; what he didn’t know seemed to be kindness. “Alright, enough of the mushy stuff. My arc reactor’s going to melt if this keeps up.” He looked over at Steve. “So, Cap, what were those team-building exercises you had in mind?”

==

The remainder of the afternoon was spent doing training exercises. It would seem that Steve had caught the Hulk’s uneasy look to Tony, and thus had stuck strictly to sparring and stayed away from lighter, calmer activities. Tony was glad for that; the Hulk was clearly uncomfortable with them outside of real battle. Best to get him used to practices with the team, and then used to just spending time with the team.

Honestly, it felt like a full team practice, as opposed to the regular five-member practice with the single observer. Bruce was always present for those other practices, even if he didn’t actively participate. When asked at first why he was there, he had shrugged and gestured toward the first-aid kit resting next to him. The physicist served as a field medic for their practices, and while it wasn’t very often that first-aid was needed, he was always there, silent and observing.

It felt good to have the full team together, working together. The Hulk remained fairly silent as well, which was disconcerting, but he listened to the instructions given to him by Steve, kept his distance from Natasha, and gave amused huffs when Clint or Tony got overly excited about something.

Toward the end, when the sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, Thor had turned to the Hulk and requested permission for a bout. The big guy gave a savage grin and a nod. After having watched the others spar with each other and not really have been able to participate, the Hulk seemed excited at getting the chance with the only one of his other teammates who could possibly go head-to-head with him with a real challenge.

“This is going to be awesome,” Clint said from his spot in a tree, eyes trailing after the demigod and rage monster as they stepped into the clearing.

“Kick his ass, Green Bean!” Tony called to the duelers, a manic grin on his face.

Steve stepped forward just a little at that. “ _Please_ remember that this is just practice,” he beseeched them to keep in mind.

“Of course,” Thor replied as the Hulk huffed “Know that.”

And with that, the battle was underway. It was, in every meaning of the word, _awesome._ The two powerhouses of the team going at each other was a sight to see. Clint, Natasha, Steve, and Tony watched in undisguised awe as blows were blocked, fists collided, and Thor’s hammer glinted in the fading sunlight. 

It came as a surprise when the Hulk stepped back and huffed in irritation. “Not fighting _team,”_ he growled at Thor, looking down at the demigod with a disgruntled frown. “No go easy. Fighting _Hulk.”_

Thor’s answering smile was nearly blinding. “So I am,” he agreed heartily.

“Should we be insulted?” Clint asked from his perch. 

“Have they both seriously been pulling their punches?” Steve mused aloud.

Tony’s eyes remained on the two fighters. Neither had broken a sweat, and the pause had not been to catch their breath. Had they _both_ been going easy on each other?

Before Tony could parse it out, Thor and the Hulk lunged at each other, and the battle began anew. The engineer’s eyes followed the movements with more scrutiny this time around. If it had been anyone else in either of their positions, someone would have definitely been killed by now. As much as he wanted to keep his focus on the Hulk, he kept finding himself watching Thor. He had never seen the Asgardian fight this intensely in practices. The God of Thunder really had been going easy on the rest of the team, like the green goliath pointed out. Realistically, they all knew that Thor had to mind his strength with them, but they had never realized the degree of it. Now, how the Hulk even _knew_ that while the rest of them didn’t bugged the engineer.

Things were beginning to reach a climax when Thor flung Mjölnir at the Hulk’s head. The goliath neatly ducked out of the way. As he did so, his giant green hand grasped a nearby tree, his fingers sinking into the splintering wood of the trunk. The Hulk’s eyes remained on Thor while the rest of the team’s collective gaze was on the hammer; they didn’t need to be looking at Thor to see that his hand had shot forward, as Mjölnir swiftly did a 180 and was headed straight towards the green goliath’s unsuspecting back.

They assumed, anyway…

Right when a collision seemed inevitable, the Hulk ducked again, and Mjölnir went careening over the giant’s head. While the hammer was flying back toward Thor’s awaiting hand, the Hulk tightened his grip on the tree he was holding and pulled. The roots were quickly drawn from the ground, and the entire tree was thrown at the God of Thunder. Just as Thor caught the hammer, the tree collided with the demigod’s abdomen, sending both him and the uprooted oak flying. 

The _oof_ from Thor was overshadowed by the amazed profanity from the group and the Hulk’s triumphant roar of victory. 

The demigod and the tree had barely been stationary for a second before the Hulk was there, looking down at Thor with a smug grin on his face. “Hulk wins.”

Thor let out a breathless bark of a laugh. “I admit defeat, friend Hulk. Well played!” He pushed the tree off of his person. A wide grin spread across his face when the Hulk offered the demigod a hand to help him to his feet. 

Steve looked relieved that the fight had ended on amicable terms, and as he announced that that was enough for one day, Natasha radioed for pick-up. 

Tony looked up when Clint let out a low whistle. The archer glanced down at the engineer from his perch. “I guess we know why Banner always watches us do team exercises together.”

Clint hadn’t even finished speaking before Tony suddenly felt like he had been blindsided. His eyes darted back to the Hulk, who was beginning to wander away from the clearing, most likely looking for a quiet place to shift back into Bruce. The engineer knew that Bruce always watched them spar; he just never realized that the Hulk was watching, too. It never occurred to him that Dr. Banner watched them for the Hulk’s benefit; while he wouldn’t necessarily let the big guy out for these sessions, he did what he could to help. 

The sound of shifting and cracking bones snapped Tony from his thoughts. He collected the clothes that Bruce had abandoned before his transformation and followed the frankly disturbing noises of the transition from goliath to man.

He found his friend in the final stages of the transformation, more tan than green and completely exhausted. The physicist was lying on his side amidst fallen leaves and pine needles, shivering and breathing heavily as he finally returned completely to himself. 

The half-naked man flinched when he heard the crunching of dead leaves beneath Tony’s metal boot, and his eyes shot open. Tony mused to himself just how similar Bruce’s and Hulk’s reactions were to supposedly being snuck up on. “Hey, Big Guy,” he greeted the man, smirking at the repeated greeting.

Bruce let out a long breath. “Tony…” he breathed, his voice scratchy and raw. He tried to clear his throat and sit up. “How was it? Is everyone—?”

“Everyone’s fine, Bruce,” Tony answered the unspoken question. “Hulk was on his best behavior. I honestly don’t know why everyone was so worried.” He handed Bruce his shirt and shoes.

Bruce took the articles of clothes, but didn’t put them on straight away. He continued staring at Tony, his expression almost eerily blank. It was almost unnerving. “Bruce?”

“He says ‘thanks,’” the physicist murmured, the words nearly lost in the open air between them. His brow furrowed slightly and his gaze lowered. “The Other Guy…says thanks for letting him out.” A small, disbelieving expression appeared on his face. “‘Team good.’”

Tony stared down at Bruce for a long moment. “I thought you two weren’t on speaking terms…”

“Not with actual words,” Bruce explained before he carefully shrugged on his collared shirt, wincing only slightly as his muscles protested. “I’ve been trying to communicate with him, but he only ever sends back grunts and roars.”

As Bruce’s shaky fingers began to fasten the buttons on his shirt, Tony’s mind processed everything he had just heard. “I’ll work on getting the training areas at the tower reinforced so we don’t have to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere again.” He helped Bruce to his feet after the shoes were back in place. The physicist’s legs nearly gave out, but Tony had a firm hold on him. “He seems okay with us while practicing, but I know Cap wants to work up to the point where he can be comfortable with us while outside of battle.”

He felt Bruce shift just slightly, and a part of the engineer slumped. It would take forever for the Hulk to relax around them if Bruce himself couldn’t relax around them. Something new to work on, he supposed.

Bruce let himself be led toward the clearing where the others were. “So he did good?” he asked quietly.

Tony glanced over at his friend. “Yeah,” he replied with a grin, “he did good.”

He felt the man relax and let out a breath as a relieved smile crossed his face. As the others turned and glanced at them, Bruce breathed a contented and exhausted “Good.” Tony was pretty sure the man wouldn’t be quite as reluctant in the future for another training session as a full team, and for that, Tony was thankful.

==

The next few days were fairly uneventful. Everyone recovered from the intense training session. Clint and Natasha got called into SHIELD for a co-op mission, and Thor took a few days away from the tower to visit with Jane in New Mexico. Things in the tower were quietly productive, and all was well. 

One morning, at some obscenely early hour, Tony was coming up from the laboratories to finally get some sleep. He stopped on the floor with the communal kitchen to snag a bottle of water, as the bar on his own floor was currently empty. He passed by the sofa, where he heard the sound of even, deep breaths. A quick peek over the back of the couch revealed Bruce, fast asleep across the cushions.

Tony felt a smirk spread on his face, but he froze. His mind instantly went back to the morning meeting between himself, Steve, Natasha, and Clint, discussing the mysterious drawings. Tony’s eyes went wide and he rushed silently into the kitchen, making sure not to wake Bruce up.

As soon as he entered the room, his eyes went straight to the table. Sure enough, he found a few scraps of paper across the surface. His face lit up; Robby had come back out. He couldn’t find it in himself to be upset that he had missed an opportunity to meet one of Bruce’s other personalities. Rather, he was relieved that the child personality felt comfortable enough to reemerge, even if it was in the dead of night with no one around.

Those thoughts continued through his mind as Tony approached the table to look at Robby’s latest work. He grinned when he recognized each of the scenes from the team practice in the middle of the woods. Both Bruce and the Hulk appeared to be missing from the drawings again, but Tony was focused on the notion that Robby had been present in some way, shape, or form during the practice that he could recreate images from it. 

As he began to lightly shuffle through the loose sheets of paper, he found a folded piece that had been hidden beneath a drawing of Clint up in a tree. He felt his eyebrows lift when he read his own name written in a silver, loosely elegant scrawl. 

Tony glanced around the kitchen to ensure he was alone before he picked up the paper addressed to him and unfolded it.

 

_Mr. Stark,_

_I am unsure how to broach this subject after such a prolonged silence between us (not for lack of trying on your part, obviously). That team practice between yourself, the Protector, and the other Avengers has left a profound impression between Dr. Banner and the Protector, and I feel like you are to thank for that. Even if Dr. Banner will not say so, I know for certain that he is thankful that you assisted him in the lab and through each step leading up to the practice. For that, thank you._

_It has been many years since I have seen Dr. Banner this comfortable in one place. That said, I feel I must warn you that this comfort will probably shift to some of the rest of us, and that appearances are more than likely inevitable. This is just a forewarning, just in case. I know you are curious, so this will probably come across as a positive thing._

_Before the others appear, however, I feel it is prudent that you meet Archives. Establishing a baseline relationship with him will be beneficial to both yourself and to the others. We will contact you; please refrain from coaxing us out of Dr. Banner. I must urge you once more to abstain from telling Dr. Banner about us. First and foremost, it makes Dr. Banner uncomfortable. Secondly, we would rather not be subjected to Agent Romanov’s scrutiny once more. That would be beneficial for all parties involved, yourself included._

_Archives looks forward to meeting you. I will be in contact with you soon._

_Best regards,  
The Doctor_

 

Tony read and reread the letter two more times before he let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He felt a smile cross his face. After nearly a month of radio silence, he was finally going to have a chance to speak with The Doctor again and meet a new personality. Excitement began to rush through his veins, and he suddenly wasn’t very tired anymore.

He folded the paper back and paused when he found light blue markings on the other side of the letter. He flipped The Doctor’s note over and felt his breath catch.

Carefully outlined was a child’s tiny hand-print. It reminded him of those Thanksgiving turkeys that children did in elementary school, where their hand served as a stencil for the tail feathers for the paper creations.

Next to the child’s outlined hand was a single word written in the sloppy handwriting that he recognized as Robby’s: “Hi.” 

He had no idea why it warmed his heart the way it did, but the child’s written greeting left Tony feeling distinctly thrilled. He gently folded the paper back up before he grabbed the bottled water he had came in here for in the first place and moved on, both paper and bottle in hand. On his way back to the elevator, he paused to carefully lay a blanket over Bruce’s sleeping form on the sofa. 

As he walked, his mind was still racing. Maybe the others had all been right. Coaxing out the personalities didn’t seem to be doing anyone any favors. Obviously, the more comfortable Bruce was, the more comfortable the other personalities would be in making an appearance. Just getting the guy to relax was the key to this, and he was already on a mission to get Bruce to feel at home here and with the team. It would take longer with the team, but it seemed like Bruce was starting to get comfortable in the tower. 

The smile never left his face even after he had gotten off the elevator and prepared for bed. He read the letter one more time, studied the handprint for a lingering moment, and told JARVIS to hit the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while. I apologize for the lack of updates; I just graduated from college, went full-time at work, and am in the middle of a move. Super busy, but with just enough time to finish this bad-boy up.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with the story! Thank you so much for reading, and feedback is always welcome!


	5. Archives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

Tony and the Doctor obviously didn’t have the same understanding of the word ‘soon.’ Two days had passed, and there was still no hint of silver on Bruce, nor a grand reveal of a new personality. 

The engineer hadn’t breathed a word to anyone about the note that had been left behind for him, and the others were none-the-wiser. For all they knew, Robby had come out, doodled for a little bit, and had left the evidence behind to be found in the morning. Steve found the drawings, and had been able to hide them before Bruce awoke. Had the scenes been of something else, he would have left them out, but considering that it had been only the Avengers out in that forest for their practice, suspicions would have risen immediately. 

Steve had shown the engineer, and Tony easily feigned surprise when he saw the pictures for a second time. His comments on the drawings were few, however, as he had been too preoccupied by the plan to have a discussion later with two personalities.

But later never seemed to come.

Two days, Tony sat in wait, and nothing seemed to come of it. There wasn’t even a call to assemble to take his mind off of his upcoming meeting. Natasha and Clint were on yet another mission for SHIELD and weren’t due back for at least a week, and Thor was still off in New Mexico with Jane, due to return within the next day or two. Steve had been spending a good deal of downtime reacquainting himself with present-day New York, leaving only Bruce and Tony at the top of the tower more often than not.

With everyone else gone, Tony would have thought that now would be the perfect time to meet Archives, but apparently the Doctor had other plans. 

So Bruce and Tony worked. 

And worked. 

And _worked._

It was sometime after dusk when they finally decided to revisit the formula for that new solution to be added to an arrowhead for Clint, the same one that had exploded and left mild chemical burns on the archer’s hand. “So the tip just exploded?” Tony asked as his eyes roved over the formula. “Just like that?”

“Pretty much,” Bruce replied. He reached out to highlight a portion of the formula. “My guess is that something went wrong here.”

“You’re just saying that because I was the one who wrote that part of it,” Tony teased good-naturedly.

Bruce turned an amused look on the man. “What exactly is this arrowhead supposed to do? I was under the impression that we were making a smokescreen.”

“We were.”

“Then why did you introduce explosive elements into the formula?”

Tony leveled the physicist with a faux-severe gaze. “Look, it wasn’t the formula that was faulty; it was the housing unit. Clearly the tip malfunctioned.”

“I think the only thing clear here is that you don’t like to admit when you’re wrong,” Bruce replied easily, though he struggled to keep a grin from appearing on his face.

“Them’s figthin’ words, doc.” Tony moved across the laboratory toward an empty lab table. “I can’t believe you’re doubting my genius.”

Bruce stood stationary and watched the engineer as he moved about, plucking beakers and Bunsen burners from other lab tables before he started to grab chemicals. “What are you doing?”

“Proving you wrong,” was Tony’s only reply.

The next hour consisted of Tony carefully recreating the formula with Bruce standing off to the side. Whenever the physicist tried to talk him out of the challenge, Tony scoffed and continued on. The further the process went, the more frequent these requests to leave it became. 

Tony added the final ingredient into the mixture, and they both held their breath, eyes glued to the beaker hanging over the Bunsen burner and mildly bubbling away. The engineer grinned triumphantly when nothing happened after several seconds. “See, what’d I tell you? The formula is fine.”

Bruce neglected to comment, as he was still cautiously watching the boiling chemicals. 

“The arrowhead is faulty,” Tony went on. “I can’t believe you, of all people, would doubt me. Why, it just—”

The mixture suddenly started foaming rapidly, and effectively cut off Tony’s words.

The time it took for the formula to explode in a cloud of chemicals was a blur. Tony felt Bruce grab his arm and swing him away from the beaker, all-the-while placing himself between the engineer and the lab table. There was a sound of shredding clothing as green suddenly engulfed Tony’s spinning world. He crashed to a stop against a green, broadening chest as the formula burst into a cloud of smoke.

Shattering glass filled the air, blowing out in all different directions from the force of the explosion. There was a pair of coughing, one he knew was his own, and the other deep, jostling him whenever a cough was emitted. When they caught their breath and the lab was finally silent again, Tony opened his eyes. He hadn’t even been aware that he had shut them. 

As soon as he found himself focusing on a massive pectoral muscle, Tony noticed that he was being held to the Hulk’s giant body. One huge hand had tucked the engineer’s head against his chest while the other arm pressed Tony against his torso. 

A whirr from across the lab brought Tony back to his senses. He blinked momentarily before he glanced up to find the Hulk looking back down at him. “Uh…thanks, Big Guy.”

“Hurt?” the Hulk asked in a low rumble, sounding genuinely worried. He held Tony out at arm’s length and began to study the human within his grasp with scrutiny. 

Tony shook his head. “Nope, not at all, thanks to you.” He let himself be turned around when the Hulk prompted him to turn. “I’m fine, Hulk, really.”

The Hulk huffed and finally released the engineer. “Should listen to Banner,” he grumbled to Tony, the words only mildly scolding in tone. 

A grin spread across Tony’s face. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a bigger _‘I told you so’_ than this.” He paused for a brief second. “How about you, Green Bean? Hurt?”

“Hulk heal,” the goliath replied.

The grin instantly morphed into a frown. “Heal? So you were hurt? Hang on, let me see.” Before the Hulk could even respond, Tony was moving around the giant green man to look at his back. 

He hissed when he saw the chemical burns across the wide expanse of skin. “That looks nasty, Hulk. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” He rounded the Hulk again, not even pausing as he grabbed a huge green hand. 

“Hulk fine,” the big guy protested even as he let himself be led to the area in the corner of the lab designated for the emergency showers. 

“Hush, you,” Tony reprimanded without turning. He glanced over at DUM-E as the robot rolled over to the source of the explosion, preparing to clean up the broken beakers and chemicals. When he did turn to look at the Hulk, he found the big guy carefully watching his step as he maneuvered his giant body around the lab tables and equipment.

Tony guided the goliath into the showers. “Now, it’s probably going to be a little cold, but it’ll help rinse the chemicals off of your body. Okay?” He waited for the Hulk to nod before he gave JARVIS the command to start running the shower.

The Hulk jumped when the rush of water hit his massive shoulders and looked up into the spray. He didn’t even grimace when the water began to run off his shoulders and over the burns across his back.

“Lean forward a little bit, Big Guy,” Tony told the giant. The Hulk glanced down at him for a moment before he obediently followed the instruction. The shift allowed the water to flow directly over the worst of the burns and the surrounding area, which were already healing at a rapid rate. Tony watched as the burns began to recede and fade into the familiar expanse of green muscle. He stared for a few minutes in silence until the burns were practically gone. “Well, you weren’t kidding about healing, I’ll give you that.”

“Hulk heal,” the giant said again, his tone making it sound like Tony had deliberately ignored him before. He lifted one of his arms up toward his face to watch the water bounce off of his skin. 

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time,” Tony replied airily, making a motion with his hands that cut the water off.

The Hulk turned a narrow-eyed look down at Tony at his words. After remaining still for a moment, he shook his entire body off, sending water everywhere. A grin appeared on his face at Tony’s indignant squawk after being hit with the cascade of droplets. “Metal Man be more careful,” the goliath said when he had finished.

The engineer ran a hand over his face to remove the water that had landed there. “Call me Tony, Green Bean.” He shook the water off his hand with a scowl. “And Tony’s all wet.”

An amused glint lingered in the giant’s eye as his grin softened. “Tony,” he repeated, drawing out each of the syllables. He reached over to lightly poke the engineer in the chest. “Tony stay safe.”

Tony swatted the giant finger away. “What are you, my mother?” he asked with a grin on his face.

The twinkle in the behemoth’s eye went dead as his smile faded away. “No,” the goliath answered in a low rumble. “Momma not always protect; Hulk protect.” He poked Tony’s chest again for good measure. “Tony stay safe. Listen to Banner. Hulk protect.”

Before Tony could even think of a reply, the green across the Hulk’s body began to fade as the painful sounds of the transformation filled the empty lab. Just when the big guy was beginning to relax, he had said the exact wrong thing to send him away. Suddenly, the engineer felt horrible for inadvertently bringing up some of the Hulk’s childhood memories.

That made him pause. The question that had been running through his mind before the team practice came back to him, when he and the Hulk had just been talking. The answer to how long the Hulk had been around in Bruce’s head had finally made itself known. It was noted in Bruce’s SHIELD file that Rebecca Banner, his mother, had been killed when Bruce had still been just a boy, only nine years old. If the Hulk had memories of the woman, he had to have materialized at an earlier age. Based on his speech patterns, that put him at the mental age of a young child. Dear Lord…the Hulk had been around for far longer than Tony had initially believed. 

He forced those thoughts away to the back of his mind as he stepped into the shower to catch Bruce, who had slumped once he was fully himself again. After taking a quick second to inspect the physicist’s back, which was completely healed, Tony dragged the man over to a lab bench.

As the engineer got the doctor situated on the seat, Bruce’s eyes slowly opened. He squinted blearily in Tony’s direction for a lingering moment before he began to blink rapidly, regaining focus as the fog lifted from his mind. “Are you alright?” the physicist asked in a mumble.

“Fit as a fiddle, thanks to you and Hulk,” Tony answered as Bruce’s eyes began to scan the laboratory, coming to a pause on where DUM-E was happily chirping away as it cleaned up the mess of broken glass and chemicals. He followed Bruce’s gaze. “He said I should have listened to you.”

A slight smile appeared at the corners of Bruce’s mouth. “Well, I can’t say I disagree with him in this particular instance…” he said, running a hand over his eyes and then up into his mess of damp hair, where he paused. “Why am I wet?”

“My emergency showers are nearly Hulk-sized,” Tony answered with a smirk.

Bruce’s eyes immediately shot back to Tony. “You gave the Other Guy a bath?”

“Shower,” the engineer corrected. “He had chemical burns all over his back.”

The doctor’s brow furrowed as he took in Tony’s appearance. “And why are you wet?”

Tony grinned a little ruefully. “Hulk thinks he’s some subspecies of dog or something, I don’t know.”

The physicist continued to stare at the billionaire for a long moment before a chuckle managed to escape past his lips. He ducked his head and rubbed his eyes. “Well, that was a really nice thing of you to do,” he said, sounding almost reserved. He looked back at Tony. “Thank you.”

Tony felt his breath hitch when he met Bruce’s eyes. Within the brown irises were ribbons of silver, shining clear as day. “Sure thing,” Tony forced himself to reply, even as he watched Bruce’s eyes flash completely silver for a second before fading back to being entirely brown. The Doctor had finally contacted him.

Bruce’s eyes shifted downward as he pushed himself upright. “Well, I think that’s enough fun with chemicals for one day.”

Tony steadied the physicist once he got to his feet. “Off to take a nap?” he asked.

The physicist shook his head. “Nah, I’m not feeling all that tired, honestly. I’ll be back in half an hour or so. I’m going to take a quick shower and grab something to eat. Want anything?”

“No, thanks. I’ll meet you in R&D 6,” Tony answered easily, hiding the growing anticipation of his meeting with the Doctor, just on the horizon.

==

By the time Bruce returned, Tony was wrist-deep in his suit, repairing a wire that had gone faulty during the last test-flight. Bruce’s offer to lend a hand was declined, and they both continued to work on their own respective projects. 

Tony kept sneaking peeks over at Bruce, hoping each time to see the Doctor sitting on the lab stool. When Bruce caught Tony looking at him and his offer to help was repeated, the engineer resolved not to look over again until he was given some sort of clue that someone else had appeared.

His resolve was rapidly deteriorating by the time forty-five minutes passed by in silence, but his patience was finally rewarded. He heard a shift in Bruce’s breathing, followed by the sound of lightly rustling fabric. Tony finally looked away from his work and toward the lab bench, expecting to see the Doctor.

The retort that had been on the tip of his tongue died on his lips. His eyes locked on the older-looking version of Bruce that was currently sitting on the lab stool, who was reorienting himself with rapid blinks. His hair was greyer than Bruce’s, but seemed more tame. If it wasn’t for the deep purple shirt that Bruce had reappeared in after his shower, Tony would have thought the man across from him had stepped out of one of those old timey photos. Every color of his person looked dimmed and aged, like he was a living manifestation of the word _sepia._

The transition was not nearly as seamless as when either the Doctor or the Hulk came out. It struck Tony as odd.

The personality let out a long breath as he straightened on the stool, stretching a little. “Well…that was different,” he mused to himself in a voice filled with dusty warmth. 

At that, a pair of light, dusty brown eyes turned and found Tony. A fond, gentle smile crossed his features, highlighting some of the lines in his face. “Mr. Stark,” he said before he stood up and offered his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I am Archives.”

Tony couldn’t help but smile at the personality’s easy-going nature. “Good to meet you, Archives,” he replied as he shook the alter’s hand. The hand in his was softer than Bruce’s, which took the engineer by surprise. He really shouldn’t have found it odd, considering that the man’s entire physiology changed in the transformation between himself and the Hulk; it only stood to reason that the other transformations would have that similar quality.

When their hands released, Archives carefully lowered himself back onto the stool. “Forgive me for sitting, but this body is still rather achy after the Protector’s appearance.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Tony rejoined as he also sat down. His hands clasped as he leaned forward on his elbows. “I didn’t realize he was stiff. He said he wasn’t that tired, and the Hulk had only been out for a few minutes.”

“There has not been an easy transition between Dr. Banner and the Protector in close to a decade,” Archives answered easily. “The shifts between them are getting easier, there is no denying that, but it still takes a toll on this body. The transformation itself is one thing; add battles against aliens, robots, and anything else out of a piece of science fiction, and the toll is much greater.” He smiled slightly and mirrored Tony’s posture. “But we aren’t here to discuss the effects of the Protector on Dr. Banner’s body. I’m getting off track,” he added with a light chuckle. “You have questions.”

Tony blinked at the directness of the personality’s shift in conversation. He tucked away the information on the aftereffects of a transformation into the corner of his mind, for later perusal. “I sure do,” he answered. “When I asked the Doctor how many more of you there were in Bruce’s head, he said that you would know.”

“Active or dormant?” Archives asked.

The engineer’s brow furrowed. “Active or dormant?” he repeated.

“Sure,” Archives said as he lifted his left hand. “Active means that the entity has a consciousness, whether or not they manifest in reality.” His right hand rose. “On the other side, there are the dormant beings, who have…” He waved his hand minutely, searching for the right word. “…I guess you could say have been asleep for an extended period of time. They do not have the consciousness that the active members possess.” He paused again to settle his hands upon his knees, fingers interlocking. “The Doctor, Robby, and the Protector are all active beings.”

Tony let out a low whistle at the explanation. “And I thought this was complicated before…”

A smile graced Archives’ features again. “I’d go out on a limb and say that our case is rather different from the research you may have read.” When Tony shot the personality a faux-stern look, the smile widened. “Thirty-seven.”

Tony’s jaw went slack. “Wait, _what?”_

Archives shrugged. “As of today, there are thirty-seven others. A number of them are dormant, mind you, but there are thirty-seven of us in here.”

A silence fell over the pair. Tony stared at the alter in disbelief, who simply sat on the stool, relaxed as can be. “Thirty-seven,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Archives confirmed with a single nod.

The engineer stared for a moment longer in stunned silence. His research had turned up the average of personalities in dissociative identity disorder to be somewhere in the teens, _not_ up in the thirties, _thirty-seven_ no less. “How many of those are active?” he heard himself ask.

Archives smiled again. “Now _that,_ I won’t say.”

Tony frowned, taken-aback. “Wait, I thought you knew—”

“Oh, I _know_ ,” the alter replied, never losing his smile, “I just can’t _tell_ you.” When Tony looked like he was about to protest, Archives shrugged and held up his hands helplessly. “Sorry, but orders from above. You are far too curious for your own good.”

“Orders from whom?” Tony asked, eyes narrowing.

Archives glanced down for a moment, pondering something. “Well, not _orders_ , per say… more of a request from the Doctor.” The dusty eyes returned to Tony. “I apologize, Mr. Stark, but I agree with him. A number would spur you into meeting each of us, and the risk of Dr. Banner finding out increases that much more. It’s safer this way.”

Tony leaned back on the stool, considering the personality before him. “Well, Doc should have thought of that when he was the first to appear to us.”

Archives smiled again. “That’s not entirely accurate.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony let out a breath. “Hulk doesn’t count.”

“ _Still_ not entirely accurate,” Archives replied with a light flick of his finger in Tony’s direction.

Tony looked back at the alter. He took in the knowing look on his sepia-colored face, searching for a hint to understand. “Then who…?”

Archives’ smile seemed to warm just slightly. “When Agent Barton hurt his hand, it was Little Helper that surged forward first.” He paused only momentarily to shift on the stool. “The Doctor stepped forward with him and took control of the situation.”

“Little Helper?” Tony repeated, his brow furrowing. “Clint and the others said they only saw silver. There was never any other color.”

“There wasn’t,” Archives agreed. “Little Helper and the Doctor have been working together for decades in a loose integration. They joined not long after the Doctor first opened his eyes.”

 _That_ threw Tony for a loop. “Wait, wait,” he said, interrupting the explanation. “I thought the Doctor has been around since childhood.”

“Oh, no,” Archives said with a chuckle. “The Doctor didn’t appear until Dr. Banner was in college. Little Helper is one of the oldest members of our group. He’s been around for years, longer than nearly all of us, including myself. The two of them have been toying with integration for years, now. The Doctor received Little Helper’s memories, and Little Helper received the Doctor’s medical knowledge. It’s a pretty firm partnership.”

Tony let the explanation sink in momentarily, his eyes still locked on Archives. “Why did they integrate?” he heard himself ask.

The personality’s expression grew somber. “Little Helper did not wish to go dormant.” At Tony’s quirked brow, Archives continued. “You see, Little Helper’s duty was to help the mother after the father hurt her.” His eyes lowered to the floor as his thumb began to lightly run across the knuckles of his other hand. “Well, after she was gone, Little Helper had no reason to step outside, not that he wanted to, in the aftermath. He took up residence in a dark corner of Dr. Banner’s mind and stayed there for years, but he never went dormant. By the time the Doctor came into being, Little Helper wanted to, well, _help_ again. The two of them struck up a deal, and that’s the Doctor we have today.”

A nearly smothering silence fell over them. The engineer’s eyes had never left the personality before him, watching as Archives’ gaze remained on the floor in the wake of the explanation. There were a number of questions going through his mind, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to peruse them, not with the possibility of chasing off Archives like he had done with the Hulk earlier. 

“How do you know all of this?” Tony asked once he had settled on a question.

Archives looked up at the inquiry. As his eyes met Tony’s, a small smile settled across his features. “It’s my duty, Mr. Stark, to know these things. I am, quite literally, _archives;_ every memory that has been experienced by any of us, I catalog and store away.”

“I’m sure _that’s_ a full-time job,” Tony remarked. “Sounds exhausting.”

Archives let out a snort of a laugh, so very much like Bruce. “Well, it hasn’t been exactly pleasant, but I am pleased to say that the memories that I’ve been storing lately have been refreshingly nice.” His face scrunched just slightly. “Although it will be a little strange to store these memories; I’ve never stored my own before.”

Tony’s brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

“I’ve never been out before,” Archives answered. His eyes swept around the laboratory. “As nice as all of this is, I do think I prefer being inside.” He turned another smile on Tony, ignoring the confused look on his face. “No offence toward you, Mr. Stark. I’ve never had any reason to come out before, and I like my stacks.”

With that, he wiped his palms across his knees and rose to his feet. “It has been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Stark, but I should return inside now.” He offered his hand again. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

Tony jumped to his feet when the personality stood. Their hands clasped. “That’d be great,” he said. “Thank you for talking with me. Can I ask you one last question?”

That warm, dusty smile appeared again as their hands released. “Absolutely.”

“The Hulk—the Protector,” the engineer began, “I can safely assume he was the first of you.” The personality’s widening smile was answer enough. “When was that?”

The smile never vanished, but its warmth certainly did. “The Protector woke up when Dr. Banner was three years old.” His gaze dropped again when Tony’s widened. “We could have hours of conversation on the Protector, truth be told.” He looked back up and met Tony’s eyes. “Perhaps that could be our next topic.”

“If you feel like coming back out,” Tony replied after a moment, his mind still reeling. 

Some of the warmth returned to Archives’ smile. “We’ll see,” he responded. 

A ribbon of silver appeared in both his irises, and Archives sat back down. “Well, time for me to go. Thank you for everything you’ve been doing to provide us with positive memories.”

The gratitude in his dusty voice left Tony searching for a response. “Sure thing,” he settled on, cringing internally.

He watched as the sepia skin tones brightened and the man’s posture changed. In a matter of moments, the Doctor’s mercurial eyes met Tony’s. “Hello Mr. Stark.”

“I’m going to have to ask each of you to call me Tony, aren’t I?” the engineer asked.

Silver lips quirked upward into a smile. “Maybe,” he answered with a shrug. “I cannot remain out for long; we’ve taken up too much of Dr. Banner’s time as it stands.” His eyes sought out the lab table over Tony’s shoulder. “If you could please return to working on your suit, that would be best.”

Tony remained where he was for a lingering moment before he stood up. “Thanks for letting me meet Archives, Doc.” He leaned forward suddenly, looking directly into the Doctor’s eyes. “And thanks, Little Helper, for looking after Clint.”

A look of surprise crossed the Doctor’s face, struck speechless.

Tony smiled and moved across the lab toward where his suit was laid out. Once he was situated back in his area, his eyes returned to the personality. He grinned when he found a soft smile on the Doctor’s face. The alter glanced his way, and their gazes briefly met before they both turned to the lab table before them. 

It was only a minute or so later when Tony, fiddling with the insides of the suit, heard a soft, startled intake of air. He looked back across the lab to find Bruce there again, his brow furrowed and his narrowed eyes locked on the corner of his computer screen. “You alright, there?”

He kept his expression perfectly neutral as Bruce turned his confused gaze toward him. “Yeah…” Bruce answered slowly. “Yeah, I…I must have zoned out or something.”

As the physicist ran a hand over his eyes, an unwelcome feeling of guilt began to blossom within Tony’s chest. “Maybe you were more tired than you thought after Green Bean’s appearance earlier,” he supplied.

Bruce glanced back over at him momentarily before he glanced at the time again. “I suppose,” he mumbled in a distracted tone. He remained motionless for a lingering moment before he slowly pushed himself up to his feet. “I guess I’ll head to bed.” After another few seconds passed without any movement, Bruce finally turned away from the lab table. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sleep tight, Big Guy,” Tony replied, eyes following Bruce all the way out of the lab. Once the doors had closed behind him, the engineer dragged a hand over his face before glancing at the clock. It wasn’t even 9:30 yet; his and Archives’ conversation had only lasted a little less than half an hour. The personalities weren’t kidding when they said that Bruce didn’t like losing time. It was completely understandable, of course, and it finally resolved his qualms about why it had taken so long for the Doctor to contact him, and why there had been such a large gap of time in between meeting the silver personality that first time and receiving the letter.

These sorts of meetings wouldn’t happen again in the near future, of that Tony was certain. Hell, he didn’t even know if he’d actually _meet_ any of the others.

He’d just have to keep his eyes open. He didn’t want to take any more away from Bruce. The precautions of the other Avengers sounded in his mind. He’d never say it aloud, but they had been right. As much as it would benefit the personalities to get out for a little while, his loyalties were first and foremost to Bruce and his state of mind.

He found that his concentration was shot and that there was no way he would be able to accomplish anything more in the lab tonight. After shutting everything down, he left the lab and headed to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a few liberties with Bruce's past, particularly revolving around his mother's murder. Hope that's alright!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcome!


	6. Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

“Well, I’m going to come right out and say it: you all did a hell of a lot better out there this time.” 

The team was gathered around the conference table aboard the helicarrier for their standard post-battle debriefing. Everyone was back from their different things abroad, be it missions or visits to girlfriends out in New Mexico. The call to assemble had interrupted the movie that they had barely started. Sure, it had been four in the afternoon, but Steve hadn’t understood the _Star Wars_ reference Bruce had made in passing, and that was just unacceptable and should never happen in the tower. So, Tony had dragged Steve to the living room, snagging Thor along the way (two birds with one stone, and all that jazz), and Bruce had followed along. Natasha and Clint had popped in during the opening title crawl and joined the rest of the team to watch the film.

And not twenty minutes later, they were called to assemble.

Tony snorted. “Sure we did; we weren’t trying to wrangle an army this time around.”

“Do we even know _what_ we were wrangling?” Steve asked.

They looked to Thor for an answer, who offered a shrug, before they looked to Fury. 

“Hell if I know,” he replied. “Fact of the matter is this: you all were able to work much better together than last time, with _far_ less collateral damage.” He directed his eye to Bruce, who was slumped in his seat. “Looks like playtime in the woods did the trick, doc.”

Bruce’s eyes sluggishly found Fury. “I guess so…” he mumbled.

“Not sure if you remember this yet,” Clint began as he gazed over at Bruce, “but he got along a lot better with Thor this time around. I didn’t catch the usual tension between the two of them.”

“Indeed,” Thor agreed, “the Green One and I fought like comrades on the field of battle today, Doctor Banner.” He turned a broad smile down at the half-asleep physicist. “There were no stray blows of any kind.”

“It’s obvious that the Hulk needs these team training sessions,” Fury continued, getting everyone back on track. He turned his eye to the engineer. “Stark, how is the construction going at the tower?”

Tony offered a shrug. “The reinforced gym is nearly done; just waiting for the last of the equipment to arrive, and then it’ll be fully functional.”

“Good.” Fury looked at Steve. “Captain, I’ll leave it up to you to create your team’s training schedule. The more the full team works together, the better.” 

“Yes, sir,” Steve replied.

Fury nodded exactly once. “Dismissed.”

 

==

 

"Are we to finish watching the film upon returning to the tower?” 

They were all aboard the quinjet on their way back home, and everyone was preoccupied with their own thing when Thor broke the usual post-battle quiet. Clint was flying the jet, Natasha was sitting copilot, Bruce was dozing in his seat, Tony was fiddling with his phone, and Thor and Steve were reading. 

Tony looked up from his phone when Bruce woke back up with a snort. Three pairs of eyes went to the demigod; it would have been five, if either of the agents ever reacted to anything like normal human beings. 

Thor was sitting on the bench next to Steve with the book closed in his lap. “I wish to see how this _Star Wars_ pans out.”

“We’d need more than just tonight for that, buddy,” Tony replied. “Even if we are excluding those movies which shall not be named—”

“We are,” Bruce cut in as he closed his eyes and shifted his weight on the bench to get comfortable.

“—we’ve just barely started the first movie, and I don’t think everyone has the energy to watch roughly seven hours of _Star Wars_ -y goodness.”

“How about we finish out the first one?” Steve asked. When the others who weren’t preoccupied with flying the jet glanced at him, the soldier shrugged. “I’m interested to see what happens.”

Tony considered the two blonds for a moment before he glanced toward the front of the craft. “You two want to finish watching the movie when we get back?”

Neither of them turned, but the engineer could see Clint shrug. “I’m game. I’m always up for a little Jedi on Sith action.”

Natasha remained motionless, but you could almost _hear_ her rolling her eyes at the archer’s response. She still offered a “Sure.”

“Big Guy?” Tony asked as he turned to the physicist.

After a second of nothing, Bruce cracked open an eye to gaze at Tony. He stayed quiet for a lingering moment; Tony was almost certain he wasn’t going to answer and just go back to sleep until Bruce cleared his throat. “You guys can finish it.”

As Tony frowned, Thor leaned forward. “Do you not wish to see what happens?”

“I know what happens, Thor. I’ve seen the movie enough times to probably quote most of it,” Bruce answered wearily. “I’m just going to go to bed.”

“You have to eat something before that, though,” Tony brought up. “Let me order some food. We’ll start the movie back up while we eat, and when you’re finished, you can go to sleep.”

Bruce frowned at the engineer.

Tony returned the look. “Don’t pretend that you’re not ravenous right now. You’re always ravenous after Big Green comes out.”

Steve held up his hands in an effort to keep the peace. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Bruce. It’s—”

“Fine,” Bruce mumbled, and then promptly closed his eyes to return to his doze.

“Great!” 

 

==

 

Half an hour later found the group gathered back in the living room, surrounded by cartons of Chinese food and cans of beer and soda. They had situated themselves in the same manner they had been in on the three sofas before they had been called to battle. Natasha was curled up on one of the cushions while Clint was sprawled across the rest of the sofa. The redhead had shot him a look, but he had simply smirked and nothing was said. Steve and Thor were both seated upright on the next sofa, leaving the middle cushion vacant. The lone loveseat was occupied by Tony and Bruce.

Twenty or so minutes passed with the movie being interrupted by the sounds of slurping noodles, questions from the demigod or the super soldier, or, in Thor’s case, questions asked _around_ a mouthful of noodles. 

After they had eaten almost all of the food (leftovers were a thing of the past, what with the demigod, super soldier, and gamma-enhanced scientist living under his roof), they settled in to watch the remainder of the film. Steve and Thor continued to voice questions, to which Clint, Natasha, and Tony would answer with either patience or biting sarcasm. At one point, Steve rolled his eyes at one of the answers he was given and then repeated the question to Bruce.

The physicist was struggling to stay awake, but he was just coherent enough to chuckle at some of the jokes Clint and Tony were making. Even in his half-asleep state, he could explain the physics of one of the scenes from the screen with startling accuracy and simplified enough for Thor and Steve to understand. Even the archer had made a thoughtful noise after one of Bruce’s explanations.

After that, the next few questions were directed specifically toward Bruce. Tony smirked to himself each time and decided that they needed to watch more movies as a group if it managed to help some of them get submerged in popular culture, but more than that, if it made the others interact more with Bruce. He knew that the physicist was rapidly losing steam, but he couldn’t help but grin when Bruce would look mildly surprised, and then smile, when the others continued to speak to him. _This_ is what the man needed.

There was an extended period of the film in which there were no questions asked, no need for explanations, in which they all remained fully engaged with the movie. They were interrupted by a soft laugh of victory from the archer.

When they glanced over, Clint was smirking and looking over toward the loveseat where the two scientists were sitting. “Looks like you guys aren’t going to get anymore straight answers for the rest of the film,” he said quietly.

Sure enough, when they looked, they found Bruce curled up in his half of the loveseat, fast asleep. 

As Thor and Steve both quietly made faux-groans and returned to watching the movie, Tony’s eyes lingered on his lab partner. He knew the man was exhausted, but exhausted enough to fall asleep out in the open around the team? Bruce tended to lightly doze after a battle and as they were heading back to the tower, but he never outright fell asleep in front of them. That surprised him, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

This needed to happen more. Maybe then Bruce would start opening up to the team a bit more, and vice versa. 

With that, he returned his attention to the movie.

 

==

 

The next few days were quiet. There were no calls to assemble, and the team quietly interacted with each other more and more. The gymnasium under construction was maybe two or three days out from being completed, which would herald more full-team practices.

One evening, Clint, Natasha, and Steve were all on the helicarrier for the evening in meetings with the director and other SHIELD operatives. Pepper was back from an extended business trip, which left her, Tony, Bruce, and Thor in the tower. The demigod was off doing his own thing in his quarters.

Tony and Bruce had been working together in the lab, but Pepper had stopped by to drag her boyfriend off for a long-overdue date night. Bruce had only smiled and waved them off before he returned his focus to the algorithm that had been giving him trouble since that afternoon.

Dinner with Pepper went swimmingly, as they both caught each other up on what had happened while the Stark Industries CEO had been out of the country doing business. When they got back to the tower and were riding the elevator to the penthouse, Pepper pulled him against her and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

“JARVIS,” she said when they broke apart and Tony began peppering kisses along her jaw line to her throat, “does Mr. Stark have anything in the lab that can’t wait until morning?”

 _“Nothing that should distract him from spending his evening with you, Miss Potts,”_ the AI responded.

Pepper laughed lightly and tilted her head to the side to give Tony better access to her neck. “Smart man,” she mumbled, half-distracted.

“And just think of how smart his creator is,” Tony said against her throat, grinning when she shivered as his hot breath hit her skin.

The redhead only laughed again before she dragged the engineer’s face back to hers. “Just think,” she mused, and then kissed him hungrily.

 

==

 

An earth-shattering roar pierced through the night, and Tony and Pepper immediately jerked awake, adrenaline pumping through their veins. “JARVIS—”

 _“Dr. Banner made it into the safe room, sir,”_ JARVIS answered Tony’s unasked question. _“The room is secure, and the Hulk is currently—”_ Another roar tore through the tower. _“—rampaging.”_

Tony felt more than heard Pepper let out a sigh of relief, but even with the platitudes from the AI, the engineer still felt that something was off. The roars of outright fury, which easily cut through the soundproofing he had installed in the Hulk-out room, were lined with an undercurrent of something else, something he couldn’t name. 

As another tremendous bellow rang through the air, Tony glanced over at Pepper.

“Go,” she said, reading Tony’s face like a book.

The engineer pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I’ll be back,” he said before he left the bed. He quickly threw on some clothes and then took off down the hall.

As he was in the elevator, he called his Iron Man suit to be on stand-by, should things escalate. “JARVIS, any idea on what triggered the transformation?” He was pretty positive that this was not Bruce’s decision.

 _“I believe it was a nightmare, sir,”_ the AI answered. _“Dr. Banner had fallen asleep in the lab a few hours after you and Miss Potts had returned to the tower.”_

The elevator doors opened to the lab level, where tucked toward one of the corners of the building was one of the two Hulk-out rooms. He jogged down the hall toward the room, peering into the lab Bruce had been working in. Once he had passed the lab, signs of Bruce’s struggle to get to the room appeared. There were deep imprints of fists and forearms in the walls, the fists growing bigger the closer he got. 

When he arrived just outside the room, he found Thor already there, standing in front of the observation window with Mjölnir in hand. The Hulk must have woken the demigod up, too, considering the pajama bottoms and loosely tied robe he was thankfully wearing. The God of Thunder greeted the engineer with a nod before they both turned their attention to the window into the room, where the Hulk was still smashing everything in a blind, violent rage. 

Tony knew it would be useless to attempt any sort of communication with the goliath right now, and would remain that way until the big guy started to run out of steam. Still, it was worth a shot. “Nightmare, Big Guy?” he shouted to be heard over the continuous stream of growls and snarls.

His effort was rewarded by a furious roar and a beam of iron being thrown at the reinforced glass of the window.

“I believe our friend is beyond conversation,” Thor put mildly.

After that, they knew it would be useless to try again. If it hadn’t been blatantly obvious before, Tony knew without a doubt now that this transformation was not one that Bruce had intended, even if he had made it to the room. There was no reasoning with the Hulk when he tore past Bruce’s defenses instead of coming out when Bruce had willingly let go. It was hard to watch the big guy like this.

“I think you may be right,” Tony replied.

They decided to wait out the storm and sat down on the floor. It was difficult to have a conversation, given the roaring and destruction going on within the room. The noise was slowly replaced by panting breaths and something muttered lowly under the Hulk’s breath, which was mostly muffled thanks to the sound-proofing.

Tony looked over when understanding dawned on the demigod’s face. “He is saying the same word like a mantra,” Thor announced. _“Wrong. Wrong. Wrong…”_

They both jumped to their feet to talk to the goliath, but were too late, as the Hulk was already shrinking down. A moment later, Bruce collapsed to the floor, unconscious and shivering.

“He seemed most distressed,” Thor mused aloud while Tony keyed in the code to unlock the door. “A nightmare, you said?”

As the engineer opened the door, he mentally patted himself on the back for making the door open into the hall and not into the room. There was a pile of broken steel bars and other junk that Tony had put in the room for the Hulk to play with (or to smash, as Bruce had put it) against the door, which would have made it near impossible for him to open. “That’s what JARVIS thinks,” he answered.

The two carefully made their way into the room, taking in the destruction. Thor gingerly picked the unconscious and half-naked physicist up into his arms, and they left the room. Tony led the way back toward the elevator, pausing to make a quick detour into Bruce’s lab. He approached the man’s workstation and had the AI pull up the last screen the man had been working with. The engineer ignored the mess of papers and the knocked-over stool on the floor in favor of looking at the same algorithm Bruce had been working on before he had left, with only a little more headway made.

Tony frowned at the screen, and then returned to Thor. They made their up to Bruce’s floor, where Thor gently laid Bruce out on his bed. “Have you any thought on what caused the nightmare?” the demigod asked as he turned to Tony.

The engineer’s eyes drifted from Thor to the man lying on the bed. “Unless he was frustrated with something in the lab, and it translated into his dreams, I’m not sure,” he replied. “It could have been anything, with him.”

As they turned to leave, Thor made a low throaty hum of agreement. “That is very true,” he remarked. “Do you suppose—?”

Their conversation was interrupted by a soft sound from behind them, something like a sleepy noise, but it was completely foreign to either of them. They both immediately paused in their departure and looked over their shoulders back to the bed.

Sitting up on the bed and rubbing his eyes was a boy, maybe eight years old. He was a lean little thing, which was only accented by the shredded adult pants pooled around his waist and the queen sized mattress he was on. The mop of brown curls on his head was messy, like Bruce’s normally was after a transformation, but any trace of grey had vanished. What was most striking about the child was the golden-yellow tint to his skin, bright and lustrous even in the dimness of the room.

The boy didn’t notice Tony or Thor, as they had gone completely silent upon seeing him. Once his hands had fallen away from his face, he looked down at himself, taking in his golden torso before he started examining his arms. Another soft sound of pain escaped from the child as he lifted his arms away from himself. The limbs quivered as he examined them. Satisfied with that, he started to run his fingers over his face, lightly prodding at his cheeks and then the areas around his eyes.

As soon as the boy had started gingerly poking at his face, Tony immediately realized what he was doing. The boy heaved a sigh of relief, and righteous fury blossomed in the engineer’s chest. 

The kid was checking himself for bruises. The _first thing_ the boy did upon waking up, before looking around at where he was or who was around, was to check himself for injuries.

He must have breathed a curse under his breath, for the kid suddenly jumped and looked over to where Thor and Tony were standing. The boy’s brilliant golden eyes took them in for a moment, moving back and forth between them, before a smile broke across his face.  
“Hi!” he greeted them, all childhood innocence and enthusiasm.

The cheerful salutation sat all wrong with Tony. How the kid could go from meticulously checking himself for bruises to happily greeting strangers struck the engineer as off. The innocence seemed forced, in a way…not really, truly genuine as the kid would have had them believe.

Tony saw Thor look at him from the corner of his eye. The demigod must have seen how off-put the engineer had become, judging by the tension that appeared in the God of Thunder’s shoulders.

Regardless of that tension and the question of the child’s innocence, Thor beamed at the boy. “Greetings, young one!” he cheerfully said, his voice filling up the room in what should have been his normal enthusiasm, but it almost sounded as subtly forced as the kid’s. “I am not sure we have been introduced.”

The boy looked mildly confused, but amusement presided over it. He shook his head, and his golden eyes remained fixed on the demigod.

Thor brought a fist to his chest. “I am Thor, son of Odin and God of Thunder.” He gestured to the man next to him. “Here stands the Man of Iron, son of Stark.”

Tony lightly swatted the demigod’s hand away. “Tony’s fine, Fabio.” A glance over at the kid in the bed showed the boy positively beaming. He was reminded of a sun for a moment, be it the radiance of his smile or the golden hue of his skin.

Thor grinned again and returned his focus to the child. “And who might you be?”

The boy sat up straighter and squared his shoulders. He looked like he was aching, but he was still grinning widely. “I am Son,” he declared in an attempt to mimic Thor’s mighty introduction, “son of Daddy.”

Tony felt the air in his lungs freeze. He didn’t have to think about the mentions of Bruce’s father in his file. No, he was suddenly reminded of a single phrase Archives had said during their meeting: _“The father.”_ There had been no familiarity with the word, no indication of a relationship between them. When he thought about it, he hadn’t heard any sort of claim of a relationship between Bruce and his father. His mind then went to the file for a brief moment, but the thought was drowned out by the Hulk’s words from the day he had met Archives: _“Momma not always protect; Hulk protect.”_ He couldn’t remember Bruce or any of his other personalities using a term of endearment toward his father. There was no “Father” or “Dad” anywhere.

And yet, here was this kid, who was able to smile and proudly claim to be his father’s son. Again, he was unnerved by the supposed genuineness of the boy.

While Tony tried to breathe around the ice in his lungs, Thor strode forward. “It is an honor to meet you, Son,” he said. The engineer was momentarily surprised by how well the demigod was taking this. 

With a smile still on his face, Son gave a polite nod. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Thor.” His golden eyes moved to Tony. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Tony.” Son shifted his weight slightly and immediately grimaced. Tony and Thor caught the wince, but the boy plastered a grin onto his face again and looked between the two men. “What do you do for the company?”

A line appeared on Thor’s brow in confusion, and Tony finally found his voice again. “The company, little guy?”

For the first time since he had noticed them, the boy’s smile faltered and Son frowned. “Y’know, the _company_.” At the blank stares he received, he elaborated. “Don’t you work with Daddy?”

“Afraid not,” Tony replied.

“I have not met your father, nor know of his work,” Thor answered.

“Oh.” Son sat quietly for a moment, looking a little lost. “I’m supposed to ask guests what they do for the company; Daddy said.” He paused for another moment, looking back and for the between the two adults. “Well, what _do_ you do, then?”

Tony shrugged lightly. “We protect people.”

“You’re policemen?” Son asked.

Before the engineer could answer, Thor shook his head. “Nay, we are members of the Avengers, a fierce collection of warriors whom protect Midgard and its inhabitants from danger.”

The child on the bed stared at the demigod blankly. “Midgard?”

“It’s Asgardian for _Earth_ ,” Tony cut in. “We protect the Earth.”

A wide grin appeared on the boy’s face. “Like superheroes?!” he asked eagerly. He bounced a little on the bed in his excitement, not even wincing when his sore muscles protested. Tony grinned a little at the sight; now _this_ looked genuine.

“That term has been used often in association with us, aye,” Thor agreed. “But pray tell, what is it you do? You made mention that you are to question guests?”

It took the engineer a moment to realize that Thor was just as curious about Bruce’s other personalities as he was. The demigod was searching for answers, trying to understand the golden yellow boy on the bed. Despite how the God of Thunder had sided with Natasha in keeping him from seeking out Bruce’s other personalities, he was obviously just as curious. Thor had just gone about it differently than Tony; he had simply waited for an opportunity.

The excitement dwindled until Son was just smiling politely. “I get to wake up when Daddy has guests in the house,” he explained. “Momma tells the other kid that he needs to be on his very best behavior when people come over, and to be good for Daddy, and then I wake up. Daddy says I’m his good son.”

The boy looked so happy with that final declaration that a wave of nausea swept over Tony. Of course Son was his father’s _good son_ when people were around. He’d been there, where the only real time his own father had paid him half a mind was when he was entertaining or trying to portray himself as a family man to the press. “Has there ever been a problem with the guests?” he heard himself ask in a daze.

A note of fear flashed through Son’s eyes, but he shook his head. “Nope,” he said in a voice that only shook slightly. “If anyone messes up, it’s the freak and his big green monster.” He hugged his knees to his chest and tried to smile through his wince of pain. “I’m the son Daddy wants, not that freak.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that more than the two men in the room.

“Son.” 

Tony glanced over at the demigod when he said the boy’s name with a twinge of sadness in his voice. He found Thor staring at the child, his eyebrows furrowed over troubled eyes. “Son, your father is not with us right now. You have no need to be afraid.” The Asgardian slowly approached the bed. “You are free to be yourself with Tony and I, little one. You are safe with us.”

The boy in the bed stared at Thor with watery eyes for a long time, his face an open canvas of conflicting emotions. He looked like he wanted to defend his father, but he finally looked openly frightened. His eyes finally lowered to the bedspread and he aggressively wiped at his eyes. “Daddy won’t find out?” he whispered.

“You have my word,” Thor agreed solemnly.

“We promise,” Tony answered.

Son glanced between the two of them for a silent moment. “Momma says it isn’t a promise until it’s a pinky promise,” he told them softly. As he said that, he held up a shaky fist, pinky finger extended.

Thor looked confused. “Pinky promise?”

Tony snorted and approached the bed. “Only the most sacred of promises on Midgard,” Tony explained as he wrapped his pinky around the boy’s finger.

Son grinned at the demigod’s noise of understanding, and then the boy and the God of Thunder wrapped pinkies. 

Thor began to explain some of the ceremonies of promise on Asgard, which led to other stories of battles and mischief he and his brother had gotten into as young children. The young alternate personality listened with rapt attention to each story Thor told, eagerly asking questions. Tony told some stories of his own, and the child was just as engrossed in those.

As the stories progressed for the next forty minutes or so, Son’s energy began to waver. His golden eyes slipped shut and his breathing evened out into long, deep inhales and exhales. The two Avengers carefully stood up from their perches on the edge of Bruce’s mattress, cautious so as to not wake Son up.

Tony watched the demigod tuck the boy in with practiced ease, and the child didn’t stir once. As they were quietly leaving the room, they heard the sound of shifting fabric. They both glanced back to find the tail-end of the transformation from Son back into Bruce, who slept on, completely oblivious to anything that had happened.

Tony glanced over at Thor as they were walking away from Bruce’s room. “You handled all of that surprisingly well,” he commented.

Thor gazed sidelong at the engineer as they made their way to the elevator. “I saw some of myself in him,” he explained after a moment. He looked mildly conflicted. “I love my father, but he has always been a king first. There were many expectations Loki and I had to live with, as we were the king’s sons and princes of Asgard.” The elevator doors opened, and the pair stepped inside. “It is not the same as Bruce’s, my childhood, but I understood his other personality. It was an honor to finally meet another of them, even if it did come as a result of Bruce’s troubled sleep.” 

As the lift began to rise, the demigod shot the engineer a curious look. “Aside from the Doctor and Son, how many of the others have you met?” he asked.

Tony returned his stare. He was about to deny having met anyone else, but he knew Thor was simply looking out for Bruce, as Natasha and the others had done right from the start when they found out. He heaved a resigned sigh. “I’ve actually met with one other personality,” he answered. “Our young artist left me a note not long after our first full-team practice, but that’s it.”

Thor nodded to himself. “What was this other personality like?”

“You know, if I recall, you were against me in learning about the others lurking around in Bruce’s head,” Tony replied.

The demigod grinned a little. “Against you, aye, but that did not mean I was not curious,” he answered. “Your methods of investigation were far too brash, my friend, and I believe that you have come to realize that for yourself.” At Tony’s eye-roll and muttered agreement, Thor placed a solid hand on the engineer’s shoulder. “But your methods now are far healthier for Bruce’s well-being.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tony replied casually, the lie rolling smoothly off his tongue.

Thor grinned again, and then stepped off of the elevator at his floor. “Whatever you say, friend Tony,” he replied. He paused to glance back at the man in the elevator. “But I believe you are right in thinking that Bruce needs to relax and find his home as a place of safety. You are a good friend to help him along the way.”

Tony stood there for a long moment, not at all sure how to respond to that.

As the doors started to shut, Thor offered him a warm, kind smile. “Good night, friend Tony.”

When Tony slipped back into bed, Pepper’s eyes slowly blinked open. “Is Bruce alright?” she asked him softly.

Tony pulled her into his arms and held her. The motion woke Pepper up more, and she looked up at his face. “Tony? Is he alright?”

The engineer simply held her, trying to figure out what to say. This encounter with one of Bruce’s other personalities had struck him more than the others. As much as it was the outright fear Son had for his father, it was how he had been predisposed to lie about it. It seemed like the brightly colored alter had been created to do just that: lie for the sake of his father. It struck him deep; it was one thing to learn about how Bruce had needed to protect himself to sate his father while in the presence of friends or coworkers, but it was completely different to downright _see_ it. That was the kid whom his father had used as a showboat, who had called him his _good son_ only for company to see. That was the kid who had been created, because Bruce didn’t know how to be a good son, not the good son his father wanted. That was the kid who had been created on a lie.

“Tony?”

Pepper’s concerned voice broke him from his thoughts. He finally glanced down to see her staring up at him, her eyes alert and worried. “He’s fine, Pep,” he answered. 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “The roaring stopped almost an hour ago…” A look must have crossed the engineer’s face, for the redhead suddenly pulled herself out of Tony’s arms to sit up. “What’s going on?” she asked point-blank. 

Tony remained where he was lying, just staring up at her. His mind went through his options at lightning-fast speeds, but in the end, he settled on honesty. “You can’t tell anyone this, okay?” 

That only made Pepper look more worried. “Tony—”

“Seriously, you can’t discuss this with anyone except me, Steve, Thor, Clint, and Natasha,” Tony pressed. 

“Not Bruce?” she inquired.

“ _Especially_ not Bruce,” Tony replied. He waited for her uncertain nod before he nodded to himself. 

They stayed up for the next half-hour or so as Tony explained Bruce’s dissociative identity disorder, and how the personalities were slowly starting to emerge. He went through his conversations with the Doctor, and then Archives. He even showed her the note the Doctor had left him during one of Robby’s late-night art sessions, along with the one-line greeting from the young artist himself. When he got to tonight’s encounter with Son, a sad look entered the redhead’s eyes.

It felt good to talk to someone else about all of this. The other Avengers didn’t seem to trust him with keeping Bruce’s well-being in mind. 

“It sounds like Thor is starting to,” Pepper replied as they started to settle themselves into sleep again.

He gave her that point. True enough, Thor didn’t behave any different the following morning. The demigod had merely offered the engineer a hearty greeting, same as any morning, and waved off Bruce’s awkward and embarrassed ‘thank you’ about getting carried back to bed after transforming back into himself. 

Over his mug of coffee, Tony could see that Thor’s easy acceptance of last night’s situation put Bruce more at ease. The Asgardian reassured the physicist that it was no trouble in the slightest, and Bruce finally relaxed. Discretely, as Bruce was preparing a cup of tea, Tony and Thor traded a look. The demigod simply smiled warmly, and Tony hid his own grin behind a sip of coffee. No matter how difficult it was to think about the creation of Son, the two of them had managed to get him to just be a kid last night. If they had managed one thing, it was getting a frightened child to relax and just be himself.

It would seem that the same was finally starting to happen to Bruce.


	7. The Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

“Hey there, Green Bean.”

The full team was standing in the middle of the finished reinforced gym only a few short days after Bruce’s nightmare-triggered transformation. It was an impressive room, complete with simulators that could create a battle scenario for them to practice against, all controlled by JARVIS. There was a jungle-gym of sorts tucked into one corner of the room which included climbing ropes and a complete maze of rafters toward the ceiling. The room itself was only two floors high, but that left a good chunk of room for them to be able to maneuver, though nowhere near enough in a real battle. It would be tough for Thor and Tony to fly around, but it would give them the opportunity to practice in tight quarters. The Hulk wouldn’t be able to jump like he normally did, and Clint would be lower than from what he was used to.

Tony had given them a brief tour of the room, and then it was time for a test-run, which ultimately meant a transformation for Bruce. After the physicist had double-checked with Clint that he had the arrow loaded with the tranquillizer, he let go and his body began to morph.

The iron-clad man now stood easily before the Hulk, who had emerged ready for a fight. After a brief look around, his green brow crinkled in confusion. His questioning gaze turned downward and he found the engineer in front of him. “Tony,” he rumbled, articulating each syllable of the name.

The man in question grinned wide. “Awesome, you remembered!”

The goliath rolled his eyes and scoffed lightly. “Hulk not forget,” he huffed as he looked around the room again, easily spotting the others. Steve was speaking to the other three across the gym, probably putting together some sort of agenda for the afternoon. Something akin to understanding crossed his features. “Practice,” the giant said.

“That’s right,” Tony replied. “C’mon, let me show you around the room really quick before we start.”

Once the quick tour was complete, Steve was ready for them to begin. The super soldier easily approached the goliath to greet him and give a brief overview of the game plan for the day. The engineer was pleased that no hint of fear or hesitance appeared on the captain’s person while he spoke to the Hulk. A quick glance at the big guy’s face revealed that the Hulk was probably pretty pleased about it, too.

The team did a few rounds against the simulators, nothing too difficult, just so they could get a feel for working with each other in a battle-like environment, but without the danger of a real one. It was obvious that the Hulk was getting better at working with his teammates, much to Tony’s pleasure, but he wasn’t really warming up to them outside of battle. The big guy got along great with Tony, and was slowly starting to become friendlier to Thor and Steve.

After a few simulated fights, Steve broke them up into two different groups. He glanced over at the demigod and assassin. “Why don’t you two go do some one-on-one training? Tony, you’re welcome to join them, if you’d like, or you can join us.” He paused to look at the archer. “Clint, you and I are with Hulk.”

As Natasha and Thor moved off to a different area of the gym, Clint gave a mock salute to the soldier before he grinned up at the Hulk. “Ready for some fun?” he asked.

A look of hesitancy appeared on the big guy’s face, and he turned his eyes down toward Tony. As Clint followed Steve off toward where the jungle-gym was, Tony gave one of the giant green arms a friendly pat. “You’ll be fine, Hulk,” he said encouragingly, and then walked toward Steve and Clint. He tried not to grin too much when he heard the Hulk follow him after another moment of hesitation. “So, what’s the game plan, Cap?” he asked once he reached the other two with the Hulk in tow.

Steve turned to face the engineer, and then he looked up at the giant. “Hulk, you know how Hawkeye here likes to be up high?” he asked, gesturing at the archer.

The Hulk looked over at the man in question, who had perched himself on the top of a horizontal bar and was now close to eye-level with the green man. He nodded, but he looked unsure and wary of whatever was about to happen.

The super soldier smiled when the goliath answered in the affirmative. “Good. What we are going to work on today is having you help Hawkeye and I up onto things that we normally wouldn’t be able to reach without help.” With that, he turned and looked up at Clint. “Can you come down here?”

Tony watched the Hulk’s face as the archer nimbly jumped down from the bar he was sitting on and easily land on his feet. The big guy still looked absolutely wary of the whole situation, even as Steve explained what to do and gestured for him to approach both him and Clint. The Hulk remained where he was, simply staring at them before his eyes lowered to the floor in contemplation. A low hum sounded deep in his throat, sounding almost like a soft growl, and then finally looked back up at them. “Gentle,” he grumbled to himself, like he was repeating something that had been said to him, as he stepped forward.

It occurred to the engineer just then that the simple instruction to be gentle had come from within, from Bruce himself. Tony fought back a grin; the two of them were starting to work together and were actually starting to communicate with each other. 

Tony hung back and just watched as Steve and Clint began by getting the Hulk used to being touched by them. The Hulk had held himself a little stiffly at first, but once Clint had grinned and started joking around, like he normally did, the big guy started to relax. He seemed a little hesitant at first with the idea of Clint and Steve standing on his hands to reach higher ground, but the longer they did it, the more relaxed he became. Every so often, the goliath would turn and glance back at Tony, as if to reassure himself that the engineer was still there. Each time Tony would catch the giant gazing at him, the iron-clad man would grin and offer an enthusiastic thumbs up, which would in turn make the Hulk grin wide and return his focus to his task. 

The big guy would react similarly every time Steve praised him for doing a good job on a certain maneuver. As he watched, Tony couldn’t help but be reminded of a child who had been told he had done something well, who constantly seeks approval from a source of guidance. It got him thinking; Archives had said that the Hulk had been created when Bruce was three years old. He thought back to the night when he and Thor had met Son, who was clearly a child in both mind and body. The more the Hulk reacted like a little boy, the more he found himself wondering why the Hulk himself didn’t look like a child. Come to think of it, the Hulk was the only one of Bruce’s personalities that he had met thus far that looked vastly different from the others. The Doctor and Archives looked like adults, and Son was a kid, so why was the Hulk different? Sure, he still _looked_ like Bruce in some aspects, especially in the face, but his transformation was so drastically different. 

He mused over it for the duration of the practice, even after Bruce changed back when the practice was over. 

Bruce didn’t pass out or collapse, like he normally did after being the Hulk, but he still looked wiped out. Despite the exhaustion, though, he still grinned a little as Steve and Clint recapped all of what happened. As the archer was describing how awesome it was to be standing on the Hulk’s shoulders, Bruce said that he remembered most of what had happened, even if it was all a bit fuzzy.

The team broke apart after that to clean up. As Tony was helping Bruce along to his floor, the physicist spoke. “It’s strange to feel the Other Guy so content,” he mused in a soft voice.

“What’s he so pleased about?” Tony asked, just for the sake of conversation.

Bruce didn’t answer immediately; whether he was considering or if he was asking the Hulk directly, Tony didn’t know. After a moment, a smile tugged on the physicist’s lips, but an element of sadness appeared in his downturned eyes. “He likes having friends, and likes when they don’t say he’s bad,” he replied quietly. “I guess he likes the positive attention.”

“He did great today, Bruce,” Tony said, helping Bruce out of the elevator once they had gotten onto Bruce’s floor. “Really, it was awesome. I know Clint’s stoked about the chance to ride on Mean Green’s shoulders again.”

Bruce chuckled. “And he likes the words of praise,” he added on. “It’s weird…it reminds me of a kid seeking praises from a parent.”

Tony didn’t comment on how accurate that probably was. “Well, his speech and behavior makes him seem like an overgrown kid.” He knew he needed to tread carefully forward as Bruce tensed and nodded a little in agreement. “Isn’t it odd that he didn’t manifest looking more like a child?” Tony asked, not at all sure of the reaction he’d get.

After a long moment of quiet, Bruce shrugged. “Best I can tell, he’s a manifestation of anger and trauma, all of which started back in childhood. The radiation…” He looked contemplative for a moment, but then he shook his head. “It’s odd that the radiation created him at all, regardless of what he looks like.” 

The engineer managed to keep himself from slumping as Bruce yawned into his fist. He had really been hoping that the physicist would be willing to have this conversation. He had become more accepting of the Hulk, which was a _huge_ step forward, but for all the good that the Hulk had done, Bruce was still reluctant to want to think about the accident that, in his mind, created the Hulk. 

The man was rapidly losing steam and was starting to fall asleep. “This isn’t a conversation I can have half-asleep, Tony,” Bruce mumbled.

“But it’s a conversation you’ll refuse to have wide awake,” Tony replied, but there was no heat in his words. As the dozing physicist made a noncommittal noise of agreement, he carefully helped Bruce sit down on the edge of the bed. “Get some sleep, Big Guy.”

Right as he was stepping past the door frame, he heard a voice that made him come to an immediate stop. “Dr. Banner may not desire to speak with you about it, but we can.”

Tony turned to find the Doctor sitting up on the bed. The alter was leaned against the headboard, looking exhausted, but his silver eyes were alert. “We don’t have to discuss this now, Doc,” the engineer replied. “If you’d rather sleep, that’s fine.”

The Doctor shook his head and lightly patted the bed, a clear invitation for the other man to sit down. “We may not get a chance again anytime soon,” he said as he slowly pulled a blanket around his bare shoulders, hiding away his grey skin. “Besides, Dr. Banner will not want to discuss the accident.”

Tony took a seat on the bed and faced the alter. His eyes studied the silver man across from him for a moment before he spoke. “Shouldn’t I be discussing this with Archives?” 

A chuckle escaped from the personality before he could catch himself. “Honestly, he just wanted me to come out first to see how exhausted he’d feel,” the Doctor answered. “Archives does have the actual memory of the accident, yes, but he says it’s distorted and hazy, as the Protector’s memories usually are.”

“And that doesn’t happen to the rest of you?” Tony asked. “Everyone else’s memories look fine?”

“According to him, yes,” the alter confirmed.

“So why is the Hulk different?”

The smile that appeared on the alter’s face was tired. The silver in his irises bled away until a dusty brown had overtaken them. The transition was nearly seamless, and a second later, it was Archives sitting across from him. The sepia-colored personality blinked for a moment before he pulled the blanket a little tighter around his body and smiled a little more widely. “My, the Protector got a workout today,” he remarked with a chuckle. “Hello again, Mr. Stark.”

Tony felt himself smile. “Hello, Archives,” he returned.

The older alter settled himself against the headboard. “Why is the Protector different?” he repeated the question quietly to himself. “The Protector is, in many ways, very different from all of us. He has always been the closest to Dr. Banner, and the accident only made them closer.” He paused momentarily to shift his weight. “The Protector was surging forward when the accident occurred. He and Dr. Banner took the brunt of it, but the radiation affected us all. Most of us look the same, save for the color change.”

Another pause settled over them as Archives glanced down at his dusty-colored hand, which was shaking only slightly. “The accident is an unpleasant memory, Mr. Stark, one that none of us like to think back on. As soon as Dr. Banner knew that something was wrong, the Protector rushed forward to keep him from harm. I’m not an expert in gamma radiation, but I suppose the radiation somehow connected them together, even more so than they already were prior to the accident.”

He shifted again, and a mildly pained look crossed his face. “I will never get used to this…” he mumbled to himself. His eyes returned to the man sitting across from him. “I’m going to let the Doctor answer the rest of your questions. It was nice to see you again, but this whole _outside sensory input_ thing is a little much for me.”

“That’s fine,” Tony reassured the alter. “Thanks for coming out to speak with me at all.”

Archives smiled again, and then silver started to appear across his body as the transformation back to the Doctor began. 

Once the Doctor had emerged completely, he turned his weary silver eyes to the engineer. He resettled himself and the blanket across his shoulders before he continued with Archive’s previous comments. “The Protector changed the most, after the accident. He is a child at heart, but even as a little boy, he knew a child could not completely protect anyone. That never stopped him from trying, though...” his voice trailed off with that thought and something dark appeared in his expression. He shook his head slightly and went on. “When the radiation hit, he as there to protect Dr. Banner, and it transformed both of them.”

Tony watched as the personality began to lightly run his thumb over the knuckles of his other hand, a trait he must have picked up from Bruce. The Doctor continued. “Archives and I believe that had the Protector not rushed forward when he did, the radiation would have killed us all. We’re not entirely sure why his transformation wasn’t like the rest of ours, but really, we can only speculate. There really is no telling how he perceived himself all these years; we just know that he knew he was strong enough to protect Dr. Banner.” The alter shrugged lightly. “Maybe the radiation just gave him the form to be able to match that belief.”

A silence fell over them for a few moments. Tony’s eyes studied the silver man across from him, so very much like Bruce, but also completely different. “So it’s more a matter of how you saw yourselves, and not your mental age?” The personality looked unsure, but he still nodded. “So that’s why there are some child personalities, and then there are the personalities like you and Archives?”

Another small, tired smile appeared on the Doctor’s lips. “Robby and Son never grew up, while Archives and myself opened our eyes the way we are today. I’m not entirely sure how the Protector aged, honestly; none of us know.”

Tony’s brow furrowed as a thought occurred to him. “You say Bruce and the Hulk are really close; does that mean the Hulk doesn’t know about the rest of you, too?”

“The two of them know each other,” the Doctor explained, “but they don’t know about us, which is how it ought to be. I’m not sure why that’s the case, but it’s just how it’s been since the accident.”

“But you all know each other?” Tony asked.

The Doctor took a moment to consider. “Most of us know each other, yes,” he replied carefully. “We don’t always communicate with each other, but we’ve been doing much better in that regard since the accident. It will never be perfect, but it is improving.”

As Tony let everything roll around in his head, the Doctor stifled a yawn behind a silver hand. The engineer watched the motion and knew that his time was running short. “Why did you want to tell me this?” he asked.

The alter’s eyes returned to the billionaire, even as his lids were growing heavier and heavier with each passing second. “Dr. Banner would get uncomfortable with a discussion on the accident and the Protector,” he said at length. “He’s finally starting to relax, Mr. Stark. He doesn’t need the memory of the accident to interfere with anything. It’s…” He unconsciously drew the blanket a little tighter around his body. “It’s a frightening memory, one of which none of us like to remember.”

Tony could imagine. “Thank you for telling me all of this,” he said quietly. He watched the silver man struggle to stay awake before he lightly tapped his hand against the bedspread he was seated on. “You should get some sleep. Most of you have told me that it hurts for a while after the Hulk comes out to play.”

The Doctor smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

As the engineer stood up and started to leave, the personality spoke again. “Oh, would you pass along our gratitude to Mr. Thor, as well?” When Tony turned to glance back at the alter, the Doctor continued. “You both were very kind to Son.”

Tony nodded. “I’ll let him know, but it really was fine. He’s…he’s a good kid.” 

“Once you get him past his delusions about the father, he is,” the Doctor agreed lightly. “Thank you again for being kind and honest with him. I think he really needed that.”

Tony forced himself to nod again. “Anytime, Doc. Go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll see you around. Thanks again for taking the time to talk to me.”

The alter shifted himself with stiff movements so that he was lying on the bed. “You’re welcome, Mr. Stark,” he replied in a sleepy murmur.

As the personality receded back inside, leaving Bruce lying on the bed fast asleep, Tony pulled the door shut and walked off.

==

A few days later, the Avengers were called in to handle a threat in a nearby county. They worked great together as a team, and the mission was a complete success. There were no casualties and the amount of damage to the surrounding area was minimal. It was the first mission that felt really and truly like it had gone perfectly. 

Tony touched down on the street where Natasha, Steve, and Thor were already gathered as he opened his communicator link. “Hawkeye, do you need a lift down so you can join us?”

“Nope,” was the archer’s smug reply.

Not a moment later, the Hulk turned the corner of a nearby building. Sure enough, Clint was perched atop a massive green shoulder, crouching down with a huge grin on his face. The goliath walked like he normally would, and the archer kept his balance perfectly. “Jade Jaws here came and picked me up,” Clint announced to the group once they had come to a stop, and then violently ruffled the Hulk’s hair.

The Hulk grinned savagely and leaned forward enough for Clint to fall from his shoulder. He neatly caught the archer in a massive green hand and set him down gently next to Thor.

A proud smile appeared on Steve’s face, and he looked up at the goliath. “Great job, Hulk,” he praised.

Tony grinned behind his faceplate when the Hulk smiled back at the soldier, looking so much like a little kid who had made his parent proud.


	8. Papa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

“Alright, I think that’s the last of them,” came Clint’s voice over the radio.

The battle had just ended, and it was a rough one. The Avengers had gotten to the warzone maybe twenty minutes after their foe of the day had started unleashing hell on a city not far from Manhattan. They had landed and quickly taken out the villain, but that twenty minute gap had resulted in several destroyed buildings and a high casualty count. There were crumbled remains of buildings scattered about, and the destruction in general was pretty heavy.

“Hey Iron Man, can I get a lift down?” the archer asked.

Tony turned and glanced up from where he was standing with Thor, Natasha, and Steve. He quickly fired up his thrusters and lifted off to go collect the archer from a nearby rooftop. “I figured you were going to catch a ride with Hulk again,” he said as he reached Clint.

“I haven’t seen him in the past few minutes,” the archer disclosed. He allowed himself to be manhandled by the iron-clad man, and within seconds, five of the Avengers were standing together amidst the wreckage. 

Once they were all together again, Tony flipped back his faceplate and looked around. Clint was right; it had been a few minutes since he had last seen Mean Green. He felt his brow furrow when he found no sign of their missing teammate.

Before he could ask, however, the sound of shifting rubble became audible over the noise of approaching sirens. The group glanced over to the source of the noise in time to see the Hulk dig himself out of a crumbled building. The goliath was strangely quiet as he pulled himself free of the cinder and block one-handed, as the other arm was strangely crooked toward his massive green chest.

“Hulk, buddy, you alright?” Tony called out to the giant.

The Hulk’s eyes found the other Avengers, and he carefully climbed out of the rubble and walked toward them. As he approached, they noticed an object in the crook of his bent arm. A bolt of terror went through them when they realized it was a little girl, probably less than a year old, cradled gingerly in his arm. The baby was quiet, though, only lightly dusted with dirt and completely unharmed. Her giant blue eyes rolled around, taking everything in, but they always returned to the Hulk’s chest, which she touched and ran her hand over with utmost fascination.

Once the Hulk had come to a stop before the other five, his eyes turned down to the kid in his arm. “Baby,” he rumbled softly as he handed the girl over to Clint, who took the child with reluctance.

As the goliath took a step back, the baby’s eyes remained on him. She, along with the five Avengers, watched as the muscle and green tint began to fade away from the Hulk’s body. Bruce collapsed to the ground, and the baby started screaming.

 

==

 

With the colossal amount of damage, SHIELD and the local authorities were kept busy in the warzone, which meant that the team had to take the kid back to the tower with them. JARVIS was searching through databases for the kid’s parents while the Avengers were congregated in the communal living room. 

Tony had broken off from the group to take his armor off and place an order for a massive amount of food to be delivered, but quickly rejoined the others to help JARVIS in his search. Clint and Natasha were cleaning each other’s wounds on a couch adjacent to the couch Bruce was lying across, still unconscious. Tony wasn’t sure who put the pajama bottoms and sweater on him, but it hardly mattered. Thor was trying to assist Steve, who now had the baby. The little girl seemed to hate the super soldier the least, as she had stopped screaming once she was in his hands, but she was still crying and fussing.

Steve was gently cooing the child as he paced, hoping the movement would soothe the girl, and Thor was trying to speak logically to her. The reassurances _‘you are safe, little one’_ and _‘dry your eyes’_ went unheard. The two SHIELD agents were alternating in reminding the demigod that babies were creatures without reason, and Tony had to try harder and harder to keep from laughing (a little hysterically) at the lunacy of the situation.

As for Tony, he tried his best to keep out of the mess and focus on getting the wailing child _out_ of his tower. 

Then the crying suddenly stopped.

Tony looked up with a start. His demand to know what Steve did to the child fell dead on his lips when he turned to look. He glanced over in time to see Bruce, a little shaky on his feet, gingerly cradle the little girl against him. The child sniffled a little and made a noise of distress, but Bruce shushed her gently and began to hum quietly under his breath. 

They all watched as the exhausted physicist moved to a nearby armchair, ignoring them all in favor of focusing on the child cradled against his chest, and sat down. He continued to hum a tune that none of them had heard before, but it seemed to do the trick. Within seconds, the baby was already dozing.

Still humming, Bruce carefully reclined the armchair enough for him to lean back with the child, who was happily snuggling against his chest and sweater. Once he seemed happy with a comfortable position that wouldn’t risk dropping the child, he too started to doze off. The tune became disjointed until it was finally replaced with his even breathing.

The other five Avengers watched in silence for another moment longer before Tony snorted a laugh and got back to work. He smirked when he heard Clint sputter. “That’s all it took?!” the archer exclaimed, and then quieted himself when Natasha hushed him sternly. “What the hell?!”

Steve continued to watch the child and Bruce, looking wounded. “What were we doing wrong?” he asked as he turned to the others, sounding like someone had kicked his puppy.

“She just wanted a body to cuddle, not armor.”

The sound of a new voice made them all jump and instantly return their eyes to the armchair.

Seated with the baby, still fast asleep against him, was a leaner and slightly taller man than Bruce. His sleeves were pushed back, better revealing the reddish skin on the arms being used to cradle the child. His equally red face—so very much like Bruce’s—was downturned, his bright red eyes on the girl as he slowly rocked his body in a soothing motion. The tint of his skin wasn’t something that signaled danger, as the color red tended to symbolize. No, this was a color that reminded Tony of the peel to a Honeycrisp apple: light, vibrant, and unequivocally _good_. It was a warm red, not a violent one. 

The personality didn’t look up even as the silence overwhelmed the room. His focus was entirely devoted to the child in his arms, who snuggled deeper into his chest and kept sleeping. The look on his face was a clear display of affection, like that of a new parent holding their child for the very first time.

It was Clint who found his voice first. He glanced over at Tony, looking only a little unsure about the whole situation. “You were out of your armor when Tasha gave the kid to you,” he pointed out, his voice on the verge of sounding accusatory. 

Once the archer had spoken, it seemed to snap everyone out of their frozen state. As the other Avengers turned to look briefly at Clint before glancing back at the alter, Tony shrugged. “The kid has good self-preservation instincts, obviously. She knew better than to look for comfort from me,” he said, and nobody argued. He wasn’t sure if it meant that they agreed, or if they were still taking in the red man sitting amongst them. Probably the latter, considering that this was the first personality aside from the Hulk to have come out with the entire team present. 

Steve and Natasha were still openly staring while Clint continued to curiously eye the red alter and Thor looked thoughtful about something. Tony’s own eyes returned to the personality. He tried not to be too off-put by Clint, Natasha, and Steve’s reactions, as he remembered that they had only had that brief interaction with the Doctor back when all of this had started. Months later, now this.

As Tony was getting ready to break the silence, he heard the super soldier clear his throat. “That…that makes a great deal of sense, her not liking our armor,” Steve admitted slowly. “Thank you, um…”

The red personality finally looked up and gave the soldier a warm smile, his features kind. “Papa,” he filled in the blank. At Steve’s confused expression, he elaborated. “My name is Papa.”

While Steve thanked him properly, Tony’s eyes remained on Papa, his mind awhirl. It had been a few weeks since he and Thor had met Son, the boy who lied for his father. Now here was this personality, fatherly in both action and name. He seemed like a nice and friendly alter, and was probably the gentlest one he had met so far, but his presence must have been underlined by something dark. It wasn’t too hard to imagine _what,_ given his name and friendly demeanor, not to mention how gentle he was with the sleeping girl against his chest.

Before he could ruminate on it further, JARVIS spoke up. _“I do believe we have a match to the child’s parents, sir,”_ the AI announced, opening a screen on Tony’s tablet with new information. _“This alert just went online with a description and photo of a missing baby girl.”_ Sure enough, the photo on the screen was indeed the child currently sleeping in Papa’s arms. 

“Good work, J,” Tony said. “Send out a message to SHIELD and have them send over an agent for pick-up.” As JARVIS did as instructed, Tony returned his gaze to Papa. “I think we’ll just let you hold her until someone comes to pick her up, what with you being the baby whisperer and all.”

Papa cracked a grin and bit back a chuckle to keep from jostling the little girl. “Oh no, Bruce did the hard part of _getting_ her to sleep,” he said, sounding proud. His red eyes returned to the child, and his face softened into parental affection again. “He just did to her what Rebecca did with him, when he was young. She always knew how to calm him down.”

At the mention of Bruce’s mother, Tony froze. Of course…of _course._ Papa wasn’t just supposed to be what Bruce had wanted as a father, but what he had wanted as a husband for his mother. Where Bruce’s father had been abusive and cruel, Papa was kind and didn’t look like he could or would ever hurt anyone.

And then he had gone and called Bruce by his first name, something he hadn’t come across with the others he had met. Archives and the Doctor both called Bruce “Dr. Banner,” Son had taken after Bruce’s father and called him a freak, and then Robby didn’t even seem to admit to Bruce’s existence. Papa, though, was the first to actually call him “Bruce,” and had probably only picked up on the name from Bruce’s mother.

Tony heard Clint snort. “Well, if we happen to come across anymore screaming children in the future, we’ll be sure to let Bruce handle it.” 

Papa smiled again, full and bright, but any response he may have had was interrupted by JARVIS. _“It appears that SHIELD had sent someone prior to my alert. An agent will be in the lobby momentarily, sir.”_

The personality’s smile softened at the announcement, and he looked down at the child cuddled against him. “You’re going home, sweetheart,” he told her softly.

The little girl didn’t so much as stir.

Papa smiled again, crinkling the lines around his eyes, and then slowly sat up in the armchair. It was obvious that his muscles were protesting, as his grimace of pain transformed into a self-effacing chuckle. “This must be what getting old feels like,” he joked as he stood up.

His step was a little shaky as he walked the short distance between himself and Tony. When the engineer realized what he was doing, he took a step back and held up his hands. “Pops, she’s just going to—”

“You are the only one without armor on, Mr. Stark,” Papa explained patiently, a bemused expression on his reddened face. He glanced at Tony’s raised arms. “I most certainly can’t take her downstairs, and you can hardly carry her with your arms up like that.”

Tony eyed the alter in front of him. After a momentary stare-down, Tony rolled his eyes upward and sighed heavily, but he lowered and held out his arms, palms up. 

Papa handed the girl off to Tony with the utmost care. The child started to fuss a little; before Tony could claim he was right about the girl’s self-preservation instincts, the personality corrected how Tony was holding her. Once he had her comfortable in the engineer’s arms, the child settled back down and went back to sleep.

After a moment of staring down in bewilderment at the kid sleeping in his arms, he felt a warm hand lightly clap him on the shoulder. He looked up to see Papa giving him a proud smile, looking pleased as punch. “You offer comfort just fine, Mr. Stark,” he said.

Tony couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride go through him in response. He couldn’t think of an actual verbal response to give, though, and just settled on watching Papa retreat to the armchair to sit back down.

They all watched as Papa’s red skin became tan once more as he transformed. When the metamorphosis was complete, Bruce was left sleeping in the armchair, as if he had never moved at all.

An overwhelming silence settled over the five conscious Avengers as they all stared at the slumbering physicist, as if waiting for someone else to emerge from beneath his skin. Tony felt the kid’s head move and glanced down to see her snuggle into his chest, right next to where the arc reactor was shining through his shirt. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up again.

“Well,” Steve said, just to fill the silence, because he obviously had no idea how to finish that sentence, if the look on his face meant anything.

Clint glanced over at Tony, his eyebrows raised. “Baby whisperer?”

Tony smirked before he started to walk toward the elevators, careful to not bounce too much. “I’ll be back in a sec,” he said.

When he handed off the kid to the SHIELD agent in the three-piece suit waiting in the lobby, the girl didn’t make a peep. The agent immediately knew how to hold her, and she slept on. “Let me guess: you’re a father?” the engineer asked.

The agent gave him a knowing smile, but didn’t answer. “Good work out there today, Mr. Stark,” he said instead, and then he and the sleeping child were gone.

Tony bumped into Bruce as he was making his way back to the communal floor, just as the elevator doors opened. Bruce looked half-asleep, but he still offered a smile in greeting. “I’m just going to go change,” the physicist said before the engineer could ask. “I’ll be right back.”

“You’d better,” Tony replied.

Bruce chuckled quietly as he stepped onto the elevator. “I promised Thor,” he responded. He paused, and then turned to give the engineer an amused and half-confused look. “Who taught him to pinky promise?”

Tony snorted a laugh, to which Bruce rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging on the doctor’s lips. 

When Tony returned to the living room after the elevator doors had shut, he found Clint, Steve, and Natasha all staring Thor down. The demigod was in mid-sentence when the engineer walked in, and all attention went to Tony.

At the intense focus, Tony paused where he stood to look at each of them in turn. “What?” he asked lightly.

Natasha regarded him coolly. “So, Thor here just mentioned that this was his _second_ time fully seeing one of Bruce’s other personalities, and just _happened_ to mention that you’ve met others?”

Tony managed to refrain himself from shooting the Asgardian a betrayed and dirty look, and instead shrugged. “I’ve met some of the others, sure. What’s the problem?”

“I thought you were going to drop this, Stark,” Natasha shot back intensely. “What happened to respecting his privacy and his mental state of being?”

Tony started to protest, but Thor spoke over it. “Son emerged by his own volition after Bruce had a nightmare.”

“Son?” Steve repeated quietly.

“Tony had nothing to do with that event,” the demigod continued, placing a heavy had on the engineer’s shoulder. “He has been most respectful of Bruce. Why else would his other selves emerge to him and him alone?”

That made everyone pause. Tony suddenly didn’t feel so betrayed by the demigod standing proudly next to him anymore. The Asgardian had a point, and as much as that inflated his ego, it led to another new and wonderful point: Bruce was beginning to trust the rest of the team more.

Tony felt himself grin. “This was a very good thing,” he said to the others. “Haven’t you noticed? Bruce is starting to relax here. His comfort with us is starting to bleed over to the others in his head.” He glanced over toward the empty armchair. “Now, this could have been an isolated incident, what with the screaming kid and all, but maybe Papa wouldn’t have come out if he didn’t already trust us on some level.”

JARVIS politely cut in to announce that the food Tony had ordered had arrived. Tony started to drag Thor off to help him grab the take-out in the lobby, but paused when he heard Clint speak up. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” the archer began, looking over at where Tony and Thor had stopped. “Has JARVIS been recording the times where Bruce’s other personalities come out?” 

Tony glanced over his shoulder at Clint. “There’s something strange in the electromagnetic waves that the others send off that mess up recording devices,” he explained, and then scoffed. “Please, that was my _first_ attempt to see them.”

When Natasha shot him a harsh look, he flashed a grin and dragged Thor into the elevator with him. Once the doors had shut, Tony heard an amused chuckle escape from the demigod. “You do love to wind her up,” Thor said.

Tony smirked and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sometimes she makes it too easy,” he replied. 

A few beats of silence passed between them as they dropped floor after floor toward the lobby. 

“Thanks, by the way,” Tony suddenly said. When Thor looked over at him, the engineer glanced up. “For sticking up for me.”

Thor’s grin in response was almost blinding, and he clapped a heavy hand on Tony’s shoulder in camaraderie. “Think nothing of it,” the Asgardian responded heartily.

By the time they got back, Bruce had returned to the communal floor. He was curled into the corner of the loveseat, listening to Clint retell the end of the battle where the Hulk had handed him a baby (and assuring the man that the Hulk didn’t hurt her). The physicist looked exhausted, but he was smiling. He even cracked a grin when Natasha interjected a comment of her own into Clint’s narrative.

Tony full-on grinned at the scene, and then announced that dinner had arrived. They all took their usual seats on the various pieces of furniture around the room and settled in to eat and watch a movie. 

Bruce fell asleep around the one-hour mark, and Tony smiled to himself when he realized the man hadn’t struggled to stay awake this time, and instead just willingly went to sleep with his team around him.

 

==

 

About a week later, Tony was down in the garage, where he had been all night and well into the morning. He was working underneath one of his dozens of cars when JARVIS suddenly turned off his blaring music. The engineer immediately rolled himself out from under the vehicle, ready to complain, but stopped when he saw Clint—or more specifically, the sheets of paper in his hands.

“We had another visit from Robby earlier this morning,” the archer announced, and then held up the children’s drawings.

A wide grin spread across Tony’s face as he started wiping the grease and oil from his hands with a rag. “Let’s have a look,” he said.

The drawings were of the different Avengers, again excluding the Hulk and Bruce. These doodles had to do less with battle, though; these were little scenes from around the tower. There was Clint and Natasha during a break in training. The archer was grinning at the subtly amused expression on the assassin’s face. Another one consisted of Thor and Jane, both standing close together in the dining room. There was Steve on a sofa in the living room, sketching on a pad of paper against his knees with a face of complete concentration. There was one of Tony, working on his suit in the lab.

His favorite of the bunch, though, had to be the one of himself and Pepper as the redhead pulled him off for their date night a few weeks ago. The engineer felt his face light up at how Robby had captured her stern-yet-playful expression.

When he felt a tug on one of the sheets of paper, Tony glanced up. Clint pulled the doodle of himself and Natasha out of Tony’s grasp. “Have you met this one?” the archer asked as he studied the drawing.

“No,” Tony replied. “Doc says he’s shy. But you can tell that he likes us a great deal. We’re all he ever seems to draw in his midnight art escapades.”

Clint nodded distractedly. “You were right,” he said after a moment. “Bruce really is starting to trust us more on a personal level.”

Before Tony could respond, Clint handed over one last sheet of paper. It was heavily crinkled, like it had been balled up and discarded. “I found this on the floor under the table,” Clint explained. “I figured you’d be interested, seeing as how you’ve met more of them than the rest of us.”

Tony took the paper and looked down at it. At first, he was confused by what he saw. The drawing was nothing like the rest of Robby’s artwork. This one was just a mess of colors, surrounded by scribbled-in darkness. The longer he looked at it, though, the more he began to understand. 

A look of comprehension must have appeared on his face, for Clint stepped a little closer to look down at the sheet with him. He pointed to the blob of light blue coloring. “I take it that’s Robby?”

They were looking at a child’s abstract interpretation of Bruce’s dissociative identity disorder. In a daze of awe, Tony recognized the silver, the light dusty brown, the brilliant yellow, and the light blue—all personalities he had either met or knew about. The largest blob of color was green, interspersed with blobs of brown. 

“This must be Bruce and the Hulk,” Tony mumbled as he pointed to the colors in question. “The Doctor said they’re more connected than any of the others…”

His eyes moved around to the other colors on the page, other personalities he hadn’t met yet. He wondered how many more of them he’d get a chance to meet, or how many more of these blobs in Robby’s abstract were actually active personalities. 

As he was studying the colors he didn’t recognize, his eyes strayed to a splotch of dark red off in the corner, away from the others in the scribbled darkness. The longer he looked at it, the more curious and unsettled he became. Something about the color didn’t bode well at all. It may have been red like Papa, but something about the hue was dangerous. Nevertheless, he was curious.

When he was done looking, he handed all but two of the pieces of artwork back to Clint. “I’m keeping these,” he declared. “Have the others seen these?”

“Tasha and Steve have,” Clint answered. He saw that Tony kept both the abstract and the one with him and his girlfriend. “Does Pepper know about Bruce?” he asked.

After a brief pause of consideration, Tony nodded. “I told her after Thor and I met Son,” he confessed. He shrugged minutely. “She knew I was hiding something from her when I got back to the room.”

Instead of annoyance like Tony had expected, Clint gave him a devious little grin. “And you didn’t want to sleep on the proverbial couch for the foreseeable future?” he asked suggestively.

“I’m flattered that you’ve worried your little head over my sex life, Legolas,” Tony said casually, “but I’m going to pretend I never heard you say that.”

Clint laughed, and then left the garage.

Later that evening, Tony showed Pepper the drawing of the two of them. She simply stared at it at first, and then she realized who the artist was. When she looked back at Tony in surprise, he was smiling happily. His grin widened when she smiled fully in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcome!


	9. Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. Both mentioned movies belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.
> 
> Note: There are mentions of child abuse in this chapter.

Several weeks had passed since Robby had come out for another art session in the dead of night, and even longer since the team had met Papa. Since then, there hadn’t been any interactions with Bruce’s other personalities. There had been no sign of any of them in those weeks, aside from the Hulk during team practices or actual calls to assemble. It seemed a little strange, but Tony was used to going a few weeks without seeing one of them. Bruce and the Hulk didn’t seem any different, so he didn’t think anything more of it. 

The rest of the team didn’t seem to think anything of it, either. They continued on, business as usual. 

 

==

 

It had become something of a tradition after missions for the Avengers to meet up after debriefings for dinner and a movie. They’d sit around the living room at various levels of exhaustion, explaining references or giving impromptu history lessons to those among them who needed clarification (mostly Thor and Steve, but occasionally Bruce, if the reference was recent enough to have been during his time on the run from the army). Depending on if the Hulk had been needed for the mission, Bruce was always the first to fall asleep during the movie, or through dinner, after particularly intense fights.

The day’s mission had been grueling, but definitely not the worst it could have been, thanks to some quick thinking by the God of Thunder and the Hulk. Doom was locked away and his machinery was thoroughly destroyed. The destruction was pretty bad and the number of people with injuries was fairly high, but the last time they were updated, the casualty count was still at zero. All-in-all, a successful mission.

That didn’t mean that they weren’t exhausted, though. They had all taken a beating, Hulk and Thor being the worst off.

Tony was the last to get to the living room for their movie night. He had spent the last twenty-five minutes on the phone trying to calm Pepper down, who was switching between yelling at him that he could have been killed, and yelling that she was going to kill him herself. Damn the media for standing so close to the battleground and catching footage of one of the Doombots hurling him into a building. Or was it two? Regardless, it was totally beyond his control. He was fine, _really._ His platitudes must have been convincing enough, given that she hadn’t decided to end the four-day board members conference taking place on the other side of the country in Malibu. He’d get an earful when she got back, no question about that, but at least it was being put off for another day or two.

The stack of pizzas he had ordered on their way back to the tower had arrived and was waiting in the kitchen. He stepped off of the elevator and walked past the living room area, where most of the couches were already occupied and the debate on what they were to watch was well underway. 

“Tony! Quick, you’re the tie-breaker,” Clint began as soon as he saw the engineer. “ _Jurassic Park_ or _Down Periscope_?” 

“There are five of you, Bird Feathers,” Tony remarked, not bothering to turn as he grabbed three slices of pizza and stacked them on his plate. It looked like the others had already torn into the other boxes. “How am I the tie-breaker?”

“Bruce has chosen not to partake in this decision-making process,” Thor announced after swallowing most of his mouthful of food.

Tony turned in time to see a small, completely exhausted smile appear on the doctor’s face. “It really makes no difference to me,” Bruce explained patiently, just on the wrong side of lethargic. “I’m just going to fall asleep within the first half hour of the movie anyway.” He had finished eating and already looked like he was ready to succumb to slumber.

Clint gestured over at the weary physicist with broad movement of his arm. “Y’see?” the archer said to Tony. “This, even after explaining the _gross_ difference between falling asleep to Kelsey Grammer getting a rusty submarine—a comedic piece of _gold_ , by the way,” he disclosed to Thor in a not-so-subtle aside, “—and falling asleep to an island of overgrown _lizards._ No contest.”

Natasha rolled her eyes as Clint took another bite of his pizza. “You’d choose a ragtag naval crew over dinosaurs?” she asked in an even tone, but her eyes held a small glint of amusement.

Steve turned an amused and mildly stern look on the assassin. “Now, now, there’s nothing wrong with a film about the US Navy.”

"Three words, Cap,” Tony began as he stepped into the room, “The Village People. J, start _Jurassic Park_.” He sat down next to Bruce on the smaller sofa, smirking at the tiny grin the physicist was failing to hide as two exhales of faux-disappointment sounded from Clint and Steve.

The lights dimmed and the film began. Neither Steve nor Thor had seen this one yet, so it was bound to be an interesting experience. Tony only wished that they had saved this particular movie for a day when they weren’t all battle-weary.

Bruce, predictably, fell asleep first, right around the seventeen minute mark. Tony knew for sure when he heard the light, even breaths coming from the man next to him. Sure enough, when he glanced over, he found the physicist slumped against his corner of the sofa, completely out.

“Didn’t quite make it to thirty minutes, huh?”

Tony glanced over at Clint at the archer’s hushed comment. “He said _within_ half an hour,” the engineer replied just as quietly. 

“He is deserving of rest,” Thor said in a surprisingly soft voice, something he was still learning to do. “They fought most valiantly today.”

Natasha nodded in agreement as Steve glanced from the sleeping physicist to Tony. “Should we move him to his bed?”

After a moment’s consideration, Tony shook his head. “Nah, let’s finish the movie first.” Truth be told, he didn’t really feel like getting up at the moment, not with the soreness of crashing into a building or two still overwhelming his body.

With that, they returned their focus to the screen.

The engineer was honestly surprised to find himself following Bruce’s example not forty minutes later when he felt his eyelids begin to droop. Between his full stomach, the ridiculously comfortable cushions, and the dim lighting, he was being pulled into the gentle embrace of slumber. It was a safe enough atmosphere, even with the roars of dinosaurs and screams of adults and children. 

Tony cast a quick glance at the other four Avengers, who were all still avidly watching the film. Another brief look was shot at Bruce, who showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.

Satisfied with that, Tony willingly closed his eyes and dozed off.

 

==

 

A ray of sunlight drifted across his eyes and instantly interrupted his slumber. Tony made a half-awake grumble of complaint and moved to turn his head away and instantly regretted it. A twinge in his neck made him come to an immediate pause and his eyes blinked open. Huh…still in the living room. The sun was coming up outside, slowly lighting up Manhattan. Somehow or another, during the duration of the night, he had stretched himself across the sofa with his head propped up against the armrest. He cast a groggy look around the rest of the room to find that Thor, Natasha, Clint, and Steve had all left, probably after the movie—

He froze when a light weight shifted in his arms against his chest and a tickle of hair registered upon his chin. His widened eyes instantly darted downward.

Fast asleep in his arms was a little girl who couldn’t have been any older than four years old. Her hair looked only slightly more tamed and just a little longer than Bruce’s. Her face was pressed into the engineer’s neck, but her breathing was even, so her slumber hadn’t been interrupted. What threw him off the most was the pale purple hue to her skin, something akin to the color of a bruise. She was still wearing the clothes that Bruce had fallen asleep in, but somehow she had managed to get the oversized sleeve pushed back enough for one of her tiny purple hands to clutch at the Metallica t-shirt Tony was currently wearing, directly over the arc reactor.

Tony stared for a long time, not at all sure what to do with the young child cuddling against his chest. He hadn’t met this alter of Bruce’s yet, and it had been a while since he had last interacted with one of them aside from the Hulk. He had no idea who this was; he hadn’t even expected to meet a female alter.

The light from the rising sun illuminated the room a bit more, and the purple girl’s breathing pattern changed. She shifted against him again and pressed her face harder into his neck, trying to escape from the light. He felt her eyelashes move across his skin as she slowly opened her eyes.

She immediately went rigid. 

The child suddenly lifted her face from the safety of his throat and stared up at him with wide, terrified purple eyes. Before Tony even had the opportunity to say something to calm her down, let alone _think_ of something to say to calm her down, her eyes filled with tears and a tremble began to run through her tiny body.

And then her irises filled with a petrifying mixture of dark red—

—only to be taken over a moment later by a very familiar and right now _extremely_ inconvenient shade of brilliant green.

Splashes of green appeared across the little girl’s fear-stricken face, but only for a second before they were quashed out by a sudden mercurial grey. Watery silver eyes remained locked with Tony’s for half a moment before they slammed shut. The little girl’s shifting body transformed into that of the lean, college-aged Doctor, still cradled safely in Tony’s arms, who hadn’t so much as moved throughout the entirety of whatever was going on.

The Doctor clung to the engineer as he tried to catch his quivering breath, little tremors shooting through his body. Tony stared down at the top of the alter’s head, resolved for what felt like the first time in his life to keep silent. He recognized the shaky breathing patterns as one of the techniques Bruce used on rough days to keep the Hulk calm in the back of his mind. As if acting on their own accord, his arms around the Doctor’s trembling form tightened and he pulled the alter closer to his chest, serving as an anchor.

The next minute or two passed agonizingly slow, but finally, the Doctor’s breathing evened out and the shaking had diminished to a slight quiver. Tony reluctantly let the alter go when the personality sluggishly sat up and slid away from the engineer. 

As Tony slowly shifted into an upright position, ignoring how his aching body protested, the Doctor carefully reached over and patted Tony on the knee. “T-Thank you, Mr. Stark,” he said shakily. He finally opened his watery eyes and looked over at the man in question for the briefest of seconds before he looked away.

“You alright, Doc?” Tony asked in a quiet voice, unsure if he actually should.

“Fine…” the Doctor replied in a distracted tone as he wiped the wetness away from his eyes and cheeks before taking another mildly quavering breath. “Just fine…” He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Honey was just scared, Mr. Stark. She’s fine. Everything’s _fine.”_ Another tremble went through him and he leaned forward, running a hand over his eyes. “Why on earth did she come out…?” he asked himself softly, like he wasn’t even aware that he was speaking aloud.

“Honey…?” Tony watched the silver man with a cautiously guarded expression. He wasn’t as shaken as the Doctor was, but he still felt unnerved. “Does Honey not normally…?” he had no idea how to finish that sentence.

Grey eyes turned to the engineer, looking distressed, but incrementally calming down. “She doesn’t have the fondest of memories with men,” he replied at length. “She was allowed comfort from Mother where Dr. Banner was not.” His eyes fell to the floor and an expression of black anger appeared on his face. _“Little boys don’t cry, freak,”_ he whispered in a low voice before his countenance neutralized. “Dr. Banner couldn’t always run to Mother, but Honey could. She…she only ever comes out when we’re hurting and need comfort.”

A shudder ran through the Doctor’s body as Tony stared at the alter. He tried not to squirm under the look the silver man gave him, the man’s grey eyes roving over Tony’s person. “Must have been the warmth and comfort of another person after the exhaustion of yesterday’s battle…” the alter mused to himself. “The Protector really does a number on this body…” He shook his head and let himself slump against the sofa, as if the weariness had been forgotten until just then.

Tony continued to eye the alter next to him as his mind went back to something. “Doc…” he began slowly, “there was someone there who looked like they wanted to come out. Someone with red eyes, but not like Papa’s…” He trailed off when the Doctor stiffened and shook his head again.

“No,” the Doctor said as he lifted himself with some difficulty from the sofa, haphazardly fixing the clothing on his body. “No, that’s enough for one day. Dr. Banner needs more sleep. I should…” he gazed off toward the elevator, still looking shaken.

The engineer stood up and gestured at the couch. “Just sleep here, so Bruce doesn’t wonder if he’s starting to sleepwalk when he wakes up in his room instead of where he fell asleep.”

The Doctor glanced down at the sofa and nodded. “Yes…yes, you’re right.” He breathed a sigh and rubbed a hand over his eyes again. “He’s going to have nightmares before he wakes up again…” he disclosed in a sad voice. 

Tony gave the silver man a hard look, one that went unnoticed. “Are they going to trigger the Hulk? Should I stay here to wake him up?” he asked.

A moment passed of consideration, but the alter shook his head. “Dr. Banner might get suspicious,” he replied. “The Protector…no, Dr. Banner knows how to keep the Protector at bay after nightmares. He can normally keep the Protector down…”

Another tense moment passed before Tony approached the Doctor and led the clearly shaken man back to the couch. “I’ll be in the next room working,” he said as the alter sat down. “If I hear something, I’m waking him up. I don’t know what memories were triggered when Honey woke up and saw me, but I’m sure as hell _not_ going to let Bruce suffer through it if I can help it.”

The Doctor didn’t move for a long moment, but he slowly glanced up at the engineer. When he saw the intensity in Tony’s eyes, his own silver ones lowered back to the floor. He nodded at length. “…You are a very good friend to him, Mr. Stark,” he said quietly.

A small, melancholy smile appeared on Tony’s face as he gave the Doctor a light pat on the shoulder. He left the grey man on the couch and turned toward the kitchen; he needed some coffee. After everything that had just happened, he was almost tempted to pour himself a scotch, but sunrise was a little too early, even for him. 

Once the coffeemaker was brewing away, Tony poked his head around the wall separating the two rooms. “Hey, Doc, you want a blanket or somethi—?” The words came to an abrupt pause when he found Bruce completely passed out on the sofa, returned fully to himself and curled up in a manner that wouldn’t result in any additional stiffness as a result of the couch.

Tony remained where he was for a lingering moment as he mentally went over everything that had happened again, from the encounter with the new personality to the Doctor’s parting words. Warmth and comfort…it made something in the engineer’s chest ache a little to think that there was such a small, helpless child hidden in the man’s psyche that had been denied such essential things within what should have been the safety of home. If that was what Honey was searching for to make her emerge, then Bruce must have been worse off than he had let on after yesterday’s fight. The whole event left him feeling a hodgepodge of different emotions, ranging from somber to angry. 

Well, there was nothing he could do about it now, but he _could_ keep whatever nightmares the Doctor had promised from getting too bad. With a resolution to do just that, Tony snuck out of the room to grab one of his tablets so he could work in the kitchen and keep an eye on the physicist and keep whatever demons that may emerge at bay.

 

==

 

Three cups of coffee later and no real progress made on whatever project he pulled up, Tony blinked out of his thoughts by the sound of the elevator doors opening. His eyes darted to the little digital clock on one of the kitchen appliances and found that he had only been sitting there for a little over an hour; it was just about seven o’clock.

It came as little surprise when it was Steve that stepped lightly into the kitchen, careful to keep himself quiet in respect for the sleeping man on the couch. The soldier, however, looked a bit surprised to find Tony sitting at the table. The team had come to expect Tony’s absence in the early hours of the morning; whether or not the engineer was actually asleep or working in the lab, they _never_ saw the billionaire until nine-thirty at the earliest.

“Morning,” Steve greeted the man softly. “Did you sleep alright? We didn’t really want to wake you up…”

Tony hummed at the pleasantry and took a drink from his lukewarm coffee. “Little stiff from spending the night on the couch, but it was fine,” he replied without his normal snark.

The soldier’s eyebrows instantly furrowed. Tony’s responses were never so straightforward. “Are you okay?”

The engineer looked back down at the tablet and a lengthy pause fell between them. When Steve was beginning to think he wasn’t going to get an answer, Tony exhaled in a soft sigh. “I met another of Bruce’s personalities this morning,” he disclosed quietly. 

The soldier’s worried expression took on an element of discomfort, but he kept silent for the man to continue.

Another moment of silence passed before Tony glanced up from the tablet and he turned to give the soldier his full attention. His eyes darted to where Bruce was still sleeping on the couch beyond the kitchen walls, and then he met Steve’s gaze. “She had a bit of a freak-out when she woke up.”

“She?” Steve repeated, looking confused.

Tony felt his mouth draw back in a frown as his eyes fell to look at something else and he nodded. “Honey…little thing couldn’t have been more than four years old.” When Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, Tony tilted his head in concession. “Yeah, okay, I didn’t know he’d have a female personality in there, either, but that’s not what’s important here. What matters here is that Bruce denied himself comfort yesterday after the battle for the sake of our movie night. This new personality, I guess, just wanted the comfort that he had refused himself.”

A flash of guilt appeared on the soldier’s face. “I had asked him if he just wanted to eat and go to bed, but he said he was fine,” he said softly. His blue eyes traveled to the physicist in the other room. “I guess he was worse off yesterday than we had thought. We’ll have to make sure he feels like he can just go to sleep in his own bed next time.”

Steve paused as his eyes lowered in thought before they returned to Tony. “So this new personality, Honey…why did she freak out?” His brow furrowed again when the engineer’s expression darkened. “Tony?”

Before Tony could answer, their conversation was cut short by the sound of a jerky movement from the sofa. They both looked into the next room as a sleep-mottled noise of fear sounded.

Tony was up in the living room and around the sofa before he realized it. The sleeping physicist’s face was distraught and his breathing had quickened. “Bruce?” he called quietly as he laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. A concerned frown crossed the engineer’s face when he felt the tremble coursing through his friend. “Bruce?”

Bruce cringed away from Tony in another jerky movement, along with another frightened noise. The sound came out a little lower than before, something like a mix between his own voice and that of the Hulk’s. 

Steve had come into the room and was standing behind the back of the sofa, looking worried. As Tony returned his hand to Bruce’s shoulder, Steve laid a hand on Bruce’s other arm. 

Tony didn’t spare the soldier a glance. “Bruce,” he tried again, a little louder. “Bruce, _wake up!”_

Bruce’s eyes shot open, a watery mosaic of brown and green, and he drew a gasp of air. He scrambled away from the hands on his shoulders, and would have fallen straight off the couch, had it not been for Steve rounding the sofa to keep him upright. As soon as he felt Steve’s hands on him, a noise of distress escaped from him and he started to struggle violently. His wild eyes flew around the room as he fought to catch his gasping and shuddering breath. His green-streaked eyes suddenly came to a stop when they found Tony, and his struggling against Steve froze.

“It was just a dream, Bruce,” Tony said softly as Bruce’s half-mad and watery eyes darted from feature to feature on his face. 

Whether or not Bruce actually heard or understood the words was up for debate. The physicist stared at the engineer for a moment longer before he closed his eyes and curled in on himself a little. His breathing pattern immediately shifted to one of his exercises as he fought for control over himself.

All three of them remained frozen, just waiting as Bruce slowly calmed himself down. Maybe a minute later, Bruce finally opened his eyes, fully brown again and tear-free. The tremble still running through his body was less obvious now, and his breathing was nearly back to normal.

Bruce stared at the cushion he was seated on for a moment before he glanced back over at Tony. 

The expression in the physicist’s gaze was something Tony couldn’t hope to identify. The engineer forced a small smile to his lips. “Better?” he asked.

Bruce blinked at the question, and then exhaled shakily as he ran his hands over his eyes. “Sorry,” he said after a moment. He shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from…”

“Are you okay, Bruce?” Steve asked in a concerned voice, his hands still propping Bruce up in his hazardous position on the sofa. 

The physicist remained silent for a second, and then let his hands fall away from his face. His eyes looked haunted and his expression was haggard. “I’m fine, Steve,” he answered. Neither Tony nor Steve called him out on the blatant lie. “Just…just really unpleasant memories, that’s all.”

Both Steve and Tony frowned as Bruce gingerly shied away from Steve’s hands, cringing when he moved overstrained muscles. They both watched as he managed to get himself standing upright without their help.

“Are you going to get more sleep?” Steve asked as Bruce started wandering toward the elevators. 

Bruce immediately paused and looked back at Steve. Tony felt his chest constrict a little when he saw the frightened look on the man’s face, a near ditto of the look Honey had given him when she had woken up. “Absolutely not,” Bruce answered instantly. The sudden response looked like it surprised him, and he shook his head, the look of fear becoming hidden behind a façade of forced calm. “Not yet, anyway,” he quietly corrected himself after the pause. His eyes drifted to the floor around his feet for a moment before he glanced back up at them. “Thanks for waking me up,” he said, and then was gone.

Steve and Tony remained where they were for maybe a minute after Bruce had left, staring after the physicist. Finally, the soldier cleared his throat. 

“We need to make sure he doesn’t feel obligated to watch a movie with us next time,” Steve said softly. “As long as he knows he has the option to just go to bed, he can make his own decision.” He paused when Tony glanced over at him. “Hopefully, that’ll keep this… _whatever_ just happened, from happening again.”

 

==

 

As the day progressed, Tony couldn’t help but ruminate on the whole fiasco that had happened that morning. Bruce had reemerged from his room later that afternoon, and while he seemed like he was better, Tony could see the haunted element in his eyes. Whatever that nightmare was about had cut deep into his friend, and he hated that there was nothing he could do about it. He found himself wondering that if he had said something to Honey when she had started freaking out, would that have made a difference? 

The whole situation wouldn’t leave him alone, not when he was working in the lab with Bruce that afternoon, not when he was training in hand-to-hand combat with Natasha and Clint, and not even when he had actually gone to bed.

He lay awake for a long time, staring up at where the light from his arc reactor chased away the darkness on the ceiling. The event ran through his head again, and he found himself focusing on the color he had seen before the Hulk had started to come out. It had been a dark red, and it had reminded him of something. It was a frightening shade of crimson, dark and dangerous, and he couldn’t help like he had seen the hue before—

Tony sat up so quick his vision swam for a moment. His widened eyes stared out into the darkness of the room as it came to him. “Robby,” he breathed in the wake of his epiphany. 

JARVIS brought the lights in the room up just enough for Tony to see where he was going as he jumped out of bed. Tony rushed across the room toward a work desk, half covered in mechanical parts and old cups of coffee. He flipped the switch on the desk lamp and threw open the drawer. 

Looking past the letter he had received from the Doctor a long time ago, Tony pulled out the abstract piece of art Robby had done and discarded during his last late-night art session. He slapped the drawing down on the desk and looked past the multiple different colors making up the center of the sheet of paper, and focused his attention on the lone color sitting off in a corner, surrounded and half-encaged by darkness.

Red. That dark red, the same he had seen Honey’s purple eyes turn when she woke up and saw him. It matched the hue in Robby’s drawing. 

Tony stared at the splotch of dark red for a long time, running the event from that morning over in his mind again. They were the same; the personality that had tried to appear had been squashed out by the Hulk before it could emerge. Who was this personality? And _why_ were they keeping this personality caged?

Suddenly, Tony desperately wanted answers.


	10. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.
> 
>  
> 
> **PLEASE NOTE THE TAG UPDATES. TRIGGERS FOR SELF-INJURY AND BLOOD.**

Tony tried and tried to think up ways to broach the topic with Bruce, but he had no idea how. For starters, this had to do with something Bruce wasn’t even aware of, and Tony sure as hell didn’t want to be the one who brought that to light. He was sure that Bruce wouldn’t have any idea of what he was talking about, anyway, but at least there was someone in the physicist’s mind who would. It was just a matter of getting one of the personalities to come out to discuss it with him.

He spent a full day trying to figure out his method. He didn’t think he’d be able to wait around like the last time he wanted to talk with one of the personalities, right before he got to meet Archives for the first time. This would continue to eat at him until he got some answers and his curiosity was sated.

In the end, he just grabbed Robby’s abstract and took it down to the lab with him the next morning. He placed the artwork on Bruce’s work station where it would be quickly noticed, and then headed over to his own. 

It wasn’t a long wait before Bruce came down to the lab. The whole incident with the nightmare seemed like a thing in the distant past, as the physicist greeted Tony with a mildly pleasant “good morning.” 

As Tony hummed at the greeting, a mug of coffee was placed at his elbow. The two scientists chatted for a few minutes about a shared project, the conversation between them as easy as always. It was another few minutes before Bruce finally moved off to get started on his own work for the day. 

Tony turned back to his work as well, but he listened to his friend walk across the lab to his work station, waiting in anticipation for some clue that Bruce had seen piece of artwork lying on his work desk. He only looked up when he heard the frustrated noise that came soon after. When he glanced over, he saw the Doctor giving him a look that was parts incredulous, angry, frustrated, and uneasy.

“Oh good,” Tony said casually, “I want to talk to you.”

The silver alter stared for a moment longer in stunned silence before he drew a long breath in and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you honestly just jeopardize everything we’ve worked for to keep Dr. Banner from knowing about us _just so we could have a chat?”_ he asked in a quiet, angry voice. “I thought you were past this.”

Tony got up and walked the short distance between them in quick strides before he pointed at the piece of artwork, to the deep red splotch sitting alone in the dark. “Who’s that?”

After another moment of glaring at the engineer, the Doctor looked down at the drawing. Immediately, he paled when he saw what Tony was pointing to. His eyes darted back to the man next to him. “Mr. Stark—”

“No,” Tony said. “Who is this? And why are you keeping them locked away?” When the alter’s brow furrowed, Tony elaborated. “This personality tried to come out after Honey woke up, and the Hulk wouldn’t let them. Robby drew them isolated from the rest of you—are these _bars_ that this personality is sitting behind?” He jabbed his finger at the abstract. “Why wouldn’t you guys let them out?”

The Doctor was still for a long moment, staring down at the drawing with a worried expression on his face. He finally took a deep breath and looked over at Tony, mercurial eyes uneasy. “Mr. Stark,” he began cautiously, “you need to understand something. The entity you saw is dangerous—”

“Y’know, it’s funny, Bruce thought the same thing about Hulk,” Tony interrupted. “But we know that’s not entirely true—”

“The Protector isn’t dangerous in the same way Monster is,” the Doctor cut in, starting to get irritated.

They stared at each other for a long time, the Doctor looking both worried and frustrated while Tony’s expression grew angrier and angrier with each passing second.

_“Monster?”_ Tony repeated in a soft, enraged voice. “What, did you all name him that? Did you—?”

_“What?”_ The Doctor took an aggressive step forward, on the offensive. “That was his name when he opened his eyes,” he explained angrily. “We have no say in our names; we just knew his name was Monster when he woke up. We had _nothing_ to do with it.”

“So what happened when he woke up? Why is his name Monster?” Tony asked, voice rising to match the silver alter’s. 

There was a long pause in which the Doctor remained silent. A sad element had entered the personality’s angry expression, and he seemed to shrink in a little on himself.

“Something to do with Bruce’s father?” Tony pressed, and the Doctor looked vaguely ill.

“Mr. Stark, please—” the silver man pleaded.

Tony was about to forge on, but he saw something in the Doctor’s eyes. They almost looked watery and so, so sad. He was suddenly reminded of his conversation with Archives from long ago, about the child personality that had integrated with the Doctor. The child alter had withdrawn after the fateful night of Rebecca Banner’s murder. He thought he saw tiny hints of Little Helper in the silver alter’s expression now, elements of a lost child there in his eyes, and he now had a vague idea of what triggered Monster’s creation.

“Something to do with his mother?” Tony ventured.

The Doctor’s expression immediately closed off, and Tony knew he hit the nail on the head. “We are not having this conversation,” the silver man hissed, and then turned to leave.

For a single stunned moment, Tony watched the Doctor retreat from him, and for some reason, that pissed him off even more. “Monster was made the night of her murder, wasn’t he?” he kept pressing as he started to follow the silver personality to the door.

He could see the tension building in the alter’s shoulders, but the Doctor didn’t turn around. “Leave it _alone,_ Stark,” the personality growled. “If you have _any_ respect for not only ours, but Dr. Banner’s privacy, you will—”

“Why are you all caging him?!” Tony demanded. They were out of the laboratory now and were storming down the hallway. “He’s probably traumatized! Why—?!”

_“Drop it, Stark!”_ the Doctor yelled, turning a brief and murderous glare over his shoulder before he continued marching down the hall, past the rows of floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls.

“What happened?!” Tony yelled right back.

Without warning, the silver rapidly disappeared from his skin, leaving tan in its wake. Bruce reemerged suddenly, staggering into one of the windows and coming to an immediate stop. Tony froze in his steps and huffed, absolutely irritated that the Doctor had run off, but in no way put off from demanding information, demanding answers.

Bruce heard the annoyed huff and looked behind him at the engineer, his expression a myriad of confusion, fright, and the beginnings of panic. “…Tony?” he asked slowly in a quiet voice, sounding uncertain.

“What happened, Bruce?” Tony asked, repeating his forceful question previously asked to the Doctor.

The physicist took a shaky step back and put a hand against the window, bringing his other hand up to the side of his head. His confused brown eyes remained locked on his friend for another moment. “Tony, what are you talking about?” He started to glance around the hall, growing more and more distressed. “How…? What—?”

“What happened that night, Bruce?” Tony pressed heatedly. “What happened to her, what happened to _you?_ ”

Bruce’s eyes widened and shot straight back to the engineer when he realized Tony was asking about _that night._ Several different emotions crossed his face, warring for purchase and mixing into his confusion and fear. Bruce stared for a moment longer before he slowly shook his head and turned on the heel of his foot. “No. Tony, _please,_ ” he began as he walked away like the Doctor had, “I don’t—”

“What happened to Monster?” Tony cut in fiercely.

His tirade got caught in his throat when he saw one of Bruce’s hands go to his chest. A pained gasping breath escaped from the physicist as he crumbled to the ground. Before Tony could react, the muscles across Bruce’s body began to ripple and change color. 

As his clothes tore and bits of dark, deep red became clear, shouts and groans of agonizing pain filled the hall. Bruce’s writhing body grew, but without the full muscle mass from the Hulk. He was a little smaller than the Hulk, but he was still pretty huge. Gasps for air replaced the sounds as the transformation continued, interspersed with yelps of pain as his bones began to crack and reset in a form not at all like the Hulk’s.

The bones making up his spine grew jagged beneath dark red skin, creating something like short spikes all along his back. The skin would have surely split, had it not been for the strange scale-like patterns that appeared across the expanse of skin; it took a moment to realize that they actually _were_ scales. The personality was curled against the floor, his face hidden from view as the frankly agonizing-looking transformation continued. Claws grew from the end of each elongated finger, sharp, curved, and deadly in appearance. Each breaking and resetting bone forced a painful noise from the alter, a mixture of a gasp, a scream, and a sob.

Tony stood absolutely transfixed, staring at the morphing being in front of him. The first thing that went through his mind was the simple utterance of _‘oh shit.’_

Finally, Tony slowly stepped forward. He laid a hand on the alter’s shuddering and scaled back, but before he could speak to try to diffuse the situation, Monster let out a bellowing sob and flinched violently. A clawed red hand smacked Tony away with strength close to the full force of the Hulk, the claws thankfully only cutting through his shirt and leaving stinging red marks in their wake upon his chest, but not breaking the skin. He crashed into a nearby wall. 

Tony’s eyes, slightly blurred from the impact, went straight back to the dark red being before him, and he finally got a good look at Monster’s face. The personality’s lips were pulled back as he continued to gasp for air through his sobbing, and Tony could see that his teeth had sharpened into fangs. He had qualities not unlike the Hulk, but instead of fury and rage, this alter’s expression was full of remembered pain and anguish and _terror._ The quality that was most different from the Hulk and that shook him to his very soul was how _young_ Monster looked. Past the dark red skin and fangs, the panic and misery, he had the face of a frightened child; even with the monstrous body he was housed in, he was just a _boy._ His deep red eyes were locked on Tony’s crumbled form, tears streaming down his cheeks as he continued to sob.

Tony had no idea what to do. His entire body was ringing with pain, and he couldn’t think of anything to do.

Panic flooded through him when Monster suddenly hurled himself at a nearby window with lightning-fast speeds. The personality’s head smashed into the glass, which surprisingly didn’t break, and a howling sob shook the air. A clawed fist drew back and crashed through the window, shattering the glass and triggering the alarms. He brought his hand back through the broken windowpane, deliberately raking his arm along the broken glass with another cry of pain. Clawed, red fingers left streaks of blood the same color as his skin behind as he wrapped his hand around a jagged piece of glass on the floor, slicing deep into his skin.

Tony shouted out in panicked horror as Monster held the glass up, blood steadily pouring down his arm and ready to stab himself. He felt his heart leap up into his throat. Oh god, oh god, this was what the Doctor had meant when he said dangerous… 

Before the blow could be made, Monster cried out again as splashes of green appeared on his skin. As his back arched inhumanly and a shriek tore through his throat, the glass slipped from his bloodied fingers to shatter on the floor. Another gut-wrenching, pain-filled howl escaped from the red alter as he collapsed to the ground, clawing at the glass-littered floor and at himself, slicing deep into his skin. The shards already on the ground cut into his body as more and more green overpowered the red.

Tony’s eyes remained glued to the writhing body before him as Monster and the Hulk fought for control. The engineer vaguely heard the sound of approaching footsteps over the combined noise of the alarms and awful noises the alters were making, but he didn’t pay the footsteps any attention. He could only stare at the scene taking place a few feet in front of him.

The red faded away from the writhing body before him, and Monster’s body slowly began to recede and transform into the Hulk, taking the self-inflicted wounds with him. The blood from the closing wounds that hadn’t transferred to the floor remained on his body, smudges of red marring the expanse of green. When the Hulk’s eyes finally opened, they looked haunted. Tears continued to run down his green face and he drew shuddering gasps of air.

The alarms shut off, and gusts of wind came in through the broken window. The only sounds aside from the breezes coming in from outside was that of the Hulk’s shaky breathing.

Tony had never seen the big guy look so lost and frightened. A stab of pain went through his chest when the Hulk found the blood on his hands and a small noise of distress escaped from his throat, like a sound of a wounded animal. As the Hulk’s outstretched hands began to quiver, Tony risked quietly calling his name. “Hulk...?”

It was a mistake.

The giant’s head instantly whipped up and went to the area on the wall just above Tony. He rapidly scooted away, growling at a threat only he seemed to be able to see. It was like watching a cornered animal going on the defense, hackles raised, teeth bared, and ready to protect himself. When his eyes found the blood on the floor, though, it triggered something. His green eyes shot wide, and he let out a bellowing roar of outright fury and _fear._

The surrounding windows shook with the force of the guttural roar, cracks beginning to appear all along the corridor’s glass panes.

An arrow suddenly hit him and bounced off his massive green chest, releasing a cloud of chemicals. The Hulk didn’t even seem to notice the chemicals he was breathing in through his gasping. The Hulk immediately scrambled away in an enraged panic and took off away from the labs and down the hall, leaving a trail of destruction unknowingly behind.

Tony stared down at what was left of the arrow that had hit the Hulk. In a daze, he recognized it as the arrowhead he and Bruce had created to hold the tranquillizer they had worked on months ago, before they started their team practices. He had hoped that the chemicals would never have to be used, but Bruce trusted them with it and to know when to use it.

At the thought of Bruce, his eyes shot to the open hall. He stared after the Hulk with wide eyes, only blinking when he saw Thor and Steve run after the goliath, following the path of destruction and the guttural roars that were growing more and more tired and sad. Slowly, he turned his head to glance down the other end of the hall. He found Clint and Natasha there, the archer holding his bow in a painfully tight grip, and the assassin with her hand on the holster of her gun. At first glance, they both looked shaken.

Clint’s eyes finally drifted over to Tony, looking both weary and betrayed, before he looked away and ran a hand over his face. Natasha stormed forward, but Tony’s eyes remained on the archer, even after she came to a stop in front of him.

“What did you do to him?” Natasha grounded out in a very quiet, very dangerous voice.

Tony didn’t bother looking up at her; she already knew the answer. He wasn’t sure what he had intended with his line of questioning, but he had _never_ intended for this to happen.

His gaze moved past her to the small pools of radioactive blood surrounding the shards of broken glass and deep gouges in the floor. He vaguely heard the assassin let out a frustrated huff before she walked away, leaving him in a crumbled heap against the broken wall.

An unknown amount of time passed. He blinked from his daze when he heard two heavy pairs of footsteps approaching, and he glanced toward where the Hulk had fled. Steve and Thor returned to the scene, the demigod carefully cradling Bruce’s naked, unconscious, and bloody body. Even from where he was sitting, Tony could see the tear tracks on Bruce’s face, and he could hardly breathe around the lump of guilt that lodged in his throat.

Thor only spared him a saddened and disappointed look as he walked by. Tony’s eyes followed the Asgardian as he walked off with a bloodied Bruce, and Clint and Natasha walked off with him. The engineer saw a pair of legs in his periphery, but he didn’t have the willpower to actually meet Steve’s gaze, knowing what he’d see on the soldier’s face.

An overwhelming silence took over the hallway, smothering him and making it hard to breathe. 

“Are you alright?” Steve finally asked in a clipped tone.

Tony remained frozen for a moment longer, and then finally looked away from the empty hallway and forced his stiff and aching body to stand. When he finally met Steve’s eyes, he was not disappointed. The soldier regarded him harshly, colder than he had ever looked at him before.

Tony wet his lips and let his eyes wander back to the blood on the floor. He opened his mouth to say something—

“I don’t want to hear it,” Steve cut him off with the full power of his Captain America voice. “You _knew_ not to pry. He woke up from a nightmare not two days ago about _memories,_ Stark. You were _there,_ you _saw_ how he was afterwards. I—” He cut himself off to let out an angry breath of air, glaring down the destroyed hall. When he looked back, his lips were pressed tightly together and there was disappointed and betrayal mixed into his glare. “You’ve been going on and on about getting him to relax, about earning his trust. He _trusted_ you, Tony, more than he trusted any of us. Whatever you did to him, I can only hope he has a shred of forgiveness in him, a _shred of trust_ left in him when he wakes up.”

That lump in Tony’s throat seemed to solidify. Still, he managed to finally find his voice. “I never meant for any of this to happen,” he confessed.

“I don’t know _what_ you meant to do,” Steve replied icily. “You’d better hope for—”

_“Pardon the interruption, sirs,”_ JARVIS’s voice broke in hesitantly. Tony was almost glad for the intrusion. _“Director Fury is on the line. He says it’s urgent.”_

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Steve took a step back. He drew another deep breath in and let it out slowly, as if trying to calm himself down. He glared back at Tony. “Did the red personality hurt you?” he asked.

Tony still felt stiff, and he knew he’d be covered in bruises soon, but nothing felt broken. He jerkily shook his head.

Steve nodded, and then started to walk off toward the elevator at a brisk speed. “Good, because we’re already down one person.” As he jogged off, he called for JARVIS to announce the call to assemble.

Once the soldier had disappeared, Tony’s eyes slowly returned to the broken window. He stared at the blood, leaving crimson trails as it dripped down the glass.

_“Sir,”_ JARVIS began carefully, _“I advise you to join the rest of your team. I’ve quarantined off this area until the radioactive biohazard can be taken care of and the structural damage can be repaired.”_

Tony remained where he was for a moment longer. He tried to take a deep breath, but it was so hard to breathe around the lump of guilt in his throat. There was a lead weight in the pit of his stomach that was making him nauseous. “Where did they take Bruce?” he heard himself ask, as if from the end of a long tunnel.

_“Dr. Banner is currently on his floor, still unconscious and physically unharmed,”_ the AI informed him. _“Mr. Odinson has washed the blood from his body before he put him to bed. Dr. Banner should wake up in roughly six hours.”_

Tony nodded to himself, but otherwise didn’t move.

_“Sir, your team and Director Fury are getting most impatient.”_

“I’m coming,” he said, almost to himself. His step was shaky as he walked cautiously around the shattered glass and radioactive blood. The scene was left behind, but the whole event was seared into his memory.

 

==

 

“Just the five of you?” Fury repeated. “What happened with Banner?”

They were in the conference room, and four of them were seated around the table and facing where Nick Fury was displayed on the screen at the head of the room. Tony had gotten to the room late and stood next to the door, away from the camera and just barely visible to Fury. 

“We had a team practice a bit earlier that got a little out of control,” Steve said. Had it been any other day, Tony would have applauded the soldier’s ability to lie. “We ended up having to tranquillize the Hulk, and Bruce is still out. The rest of us can handle the threat, sir.”

Fury didn’t question it further, but he did breathe a curse. As he laid out the mission, it became blatantly obvious that they could _really_ use the Hulk. Steve said it just wasn’t possible and that they’d make do without. Fury nodded and told them to get to the battlefield ASAP.

Once they ended the call, Steve didn’t even bother to look back at Tony. He instead turned his eyes to Natasha. “Were you able to find someone to keep an eye on Bruce?” he asked.

The assassin nodded. “Pepper said she’d be back here in the next fifteen minutes or so,” she replied. “Something about a business luncheon she needed to wrap up first.”

Steve looked relieved and nodded. He turned a look over at Tony. “We’ll handle this when we get back. Suit up; we’re leaving in five.”

 

==

 

It was a really rough battle, made even harder without the Hulk, but they managed to fight through it and come out successful with limited casualties. They all had to pull the extra weight to make up for their missing team member, and as a result, they had all taken on more damage than normal. Thor and Steve had to be the heavy-hitters for the battle, and Natasha and Clint came out of the fight with more wounds than normal. Tony had already been sore from his interaction with Monster, but now he was aching all over.

On their way back to the tower, Steve had called Pepper for an update. She said Bruce really hadn’t stirred all that much and that she’d continue to keep an eye on him.

That was an hour ago, and six and a half hours after the Hulk had been hit with the tranquillizer.

When they got back, Tony immediately headed to Bruce’s floor before anyone could intercept him. He felt absolutely wretched with guilt, but he needed to know how his friend was—and find out how much damage he had done to their friendship.

He came to an instant stop in the doorway to Bruce’s room, and an overwhelming sadness joined his guilt. Pepper was sitting on the bed, her back pressed against the headboard and her arms around Honey. 

The little purple girl was curled against the redhead, crying softly into her blouse. Pepper rocked her body slowly and stroked her hand over the girl’s hair, trying to comfort the poor weeping child, but it seemed all for naught. 

The child continued to cling to her as Pepper looked up from Honey and gave Tony a sad look. Tony couldn’t think of anything to say and just returned her stare with one of his own, only tinged with guilt. She shook her head and returned her attention to the child in her arms.

Pepper drew a breath. “The first thing she said when woke up,” she began in a soft voice that sounded tight with emotion, “was _Momma’s gone._ ”

Honey curled more tightly around the redhead with a choked sob as her weeping intensified. Pepper just tried to keep soothing the crying child, but the girl was inconsolable. The little purple girl wasn’t just seeking comfort for an aching body and the protection of a loving adult; she was _grieving._

Even as Tony was standing there, watching his girlfriend try to calm a child personality of one of his closest friends, he could feel his heart breaking. He had triggered the memory of Bruce’s mother’s murder. While Bruce had shared some of his past with Tony over the past few months, Bruce had _never_ brought that night up. There was a certain level of understanding between them that kept them from asking the other certain questions about their pasts. They never asked each other about the other’s father, and they rarely discussed their childhoods. It just seemed like an unspoken agreement between them.

And Tony had breached that. He had knowingly breached that level of trust that Bruce had shown him. He should have listened to the Doctor, he should have listened to _Bruce_ when they both said to leave it alone, but his damnable curiosity had demanded to be satisfied.

What was it Bruce had told him months ago? Don’t let your curiosity blot out your better judgment? 

Tony had failed in that spectacularly, and Bruce was left with the consequences. Tony’s curiosity was sated, and Bruce was left with an aching body, tranquillizers running through his system, and flashbacks of his mother’s death affecting not only him, but his other personalities as well.

After staring at Honey for a moment longer, Tony’s eyes lowered to the ground. He forced himself to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently running a poll over on FF.net, but since I don't get polls here, I'll just straight-up ask you guys:
> 
> I'm thinking about doing a series of one-shots with the other Avengers meeting Bruce's other personalities. Would you be interested in reading it? Please leave a comment with your answer.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.
> 
>  
> 
> **Please note that there are mentions of child abuse/domestic abuse in this chapter, along with mentions of a past minor character death and blood. Be warned.**

Tony didn’t see Bruce again for another two days. 

No one did.

Not long after Honey had turned back into Bruce, the physicist had woken up. Pepper hadn’t needed to be asked to leave, and instead just excused herself after telling the man to let them know if he needed anything. Bruce hadn’t said anything to her; he could barely look at her.

Bruce had immediately closed up on himself and wouldn’t leave his room, completely ignoring JARVIS and not answering the door for anyone. The others didn’t push, and neither did Tony. They just gave the man his space, hoping against hope that he’d come out of his room willingly at some point in the near future. When they asked JARVIS if he was eating and sleeping, the AI affirmed that, while he was going long stretches without food or sleep, Dr. Banner was eating meagerly and sleeping in short fits. None of them asked what he was doing, and JARVIS never told them.

Tony had been verbally accosted for what he had done. Steve had repeated most of what had been said in the hall after the incident with Monster, but with more displeasure than hostility in his voice this time around. Thor hadn’t said anything about the whole situation, but his eyes continued to bespeak of all the disappointment he felt, which was worse than anything Steve could have said. Both of the SHIELD agents had threatened him with physical harm should he try to approach Bruce, let alone talk to him.

But Tony didn’t try. He kept to himself as well, working himself to the bone down in the lab. He ignored everyone after their little chat and just tried to focus on his work, but he couldn’t ignore Monster’s sobs or Honey’s quiet weeping that kept replaying in his head over and over again on an endless loop. He didn’t really make any headway in repairing his suit from the recent battle, and couldn’t really bring himself to care.

The blood from the incident with Monster had long ago been cleaned up and properly disposed of, thanks to JARVIS and the other bots around the lab. The broken and cracked window panes had been replaced with new glass, and a work crew had just finished up fixing the floor and would soon tackle the walls that had been marred.

JARVIS informed him of all of this, but Tony didn’t care. The AI’s words washed over him, as did Pepper’s when she had popped into the laboratory to check on him. It was obvious that she wasn’t terribly happy with him either, for what he had done to Bruce, but for whatever reason, she still checked in on him from time to time, trying to coax him out of the lab.

That was until he had locked the doors.

So it came as a real surprise to him when his music suddenly cut off and the lab doors slid open. As he turned to the entrance, he felt whatever he was about to say wither and die in his throat.

Bruce stepped in, keeping his head low. The physicist didn’t say a word as he walked in stiff movements across the lab and over to his work station. Tony’s eyes followed him the entire way, and the engineer struggled to find something to say. His friend looked haunted and pale and so, so tired.

A smothering silence fell over them for a long time. “…I…” Tony finally managed. Bruce paused in the middle of straightening up his station, but didn’t look up. The engineer swallowed. “I didn’t think I’d see you down here.”

Bruce remained frozen for a moment longer before he finally looked over at Tony. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, and then Bruce’s gaze fell to the lab table. “…Time-sensitive experiment,” he offered in explanation, his voice rough and tight.

Tony nodded and continued to watch Bruce try to focus on his work. After another few minutes of silence, Tony drew a fortifying breath. “Bruce…”

The physicist immediately ducked his head and leaned forward on the lab bench. “Tony, I _really_ don’t want to talk about it,” he said in a voice that tried really hard not to sound broken.

Tony swallowed the lump in his throat, or attempted to. He was quiet for another long minute in which they both didn’t move. 

“Bruce, I’m sorry,” Tony finally said, voice soft. “I didn’t…I didn’t think…”

“No, you didn’t,” Bruce replied just as quietly. Tony stared for a long time, and when Bruce finally looked back over, he saw the tears standing in the man’s eyes. The two watched each other for a long moment before the physicist heaved a shaky sigh and ran a hand over his face.

“Tony, I have always respected your privacy,” Bruce said in a voice just above a whisper. “I never asked you about any of it; your father, Afghanistan, Stane, the wormhole…” He shook his head as his hand dropped back to the lab table and looked so, so hurt. “I guess it was too much to expect reciprocation, but…” His voice caught, and Bruce had to pause. He swallowed. “B-But of all the things to ask about, you chose _that?”_

A smothering, choking silence hung over the lab as Tony sunk lower and lower into a pit of guilt and self-loathing and as Bruce struggled to stay calm.

The physicist drew a shaky breath. “I-I have never heard the Hulk cry before,” he confessed softly, and another sharp stab of guilt plunged into Tony’s chest. “He’s been crying since I woke up, Tony, and he’s only just recently started to stop.”

He looked back down at the desk, at the mess of papers and equations, and sniffled a little. By some force of will, the water in his eyes hadn’t taken on the form of tears and fallen yet. He swallowed again. “The worst of it isn’t even remembering him slamming her head down onto the driveway, again and _again_ until she stopped moving.” He needed to pause again to swallow once more; his hands were shaking. “It’s that I had _forgotten_ some of the night…forgotten how he had finished her off, and then turned to me.”

Bruce sounded openly terrified now, like he was actually reliving the moment. Maybe he was, given the distinctly distant look in his watery eyes. “…when you called me a monster, it all came rushing back…” 

Tony couldn’t find his voice to correct Bruce, to tell him that he hadn’t called Bruce a monster, that he would _never_ call him something like that, but he couldn’t find the will to speak.

Another shaky breath later, and Bruce continued on in a voice that just barely made it across the silent space of the lab. “…everything in that gap of time between him looking at me, until just…just kind of waking up in the back of the ambulance…i-it all came back…” Bruce’s voice sounded so small, like he was actually the little boy who had experienced all of the trauma of that night. “…how my father, once he was finished beating the life out of her, beat the _shit out of me_.” His voice started to shake. “The names he called us…everything he said…how he _kicked me_ into her body…i-into her _blood_ …” His voice cracked a little, and he had to pause again to compose himself, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that wanted so desperately to fall. “…h-how I felt like I deserved it, all of it, how every word he was saying was true.”

Tony couldn’t speak, could barely breathe.

When Bruce finally glanced back, he looked so utterly defeated, so wounded, hurt, and betrayed. He shook his head a little. “…why would you ask me?” he asked in a tiny, broken voice.

Tony’s voice was lost in a sea of guilt. He managed to hold Bruce’s eyes, but he couldn’t find something, anything to say. Bruce ducked his head again and closed his eyes, probably trying to not only calm down the Hulk, but to calm himself too. They stayed like that for a long time, just silent and tense.

After another few moments of silence passed, Tony took a breath. “…I don’t know what I was thinking…” he finally managed to get out. He didn’t know if Bruce looked his way or not, for his own eyes had moved off somewhere else, _anywhere_ else. “…which is something I can’t admit often, but…but I don’t know where my head was. I just…” he paused, trying to find the words to articulate his thoughts correctly. His mouth worked for a few silent moments before he heaved a sigh and shook his head. “No. No, there’s no excuse for what I did to you. I never should have pried, and I am so, _so_ sorry I did.” He struggled to swallow, and he looked down at the floor. “It was wrong and downright cruel of me to keep pushing, even after you told me not to. You didn’t deserve to be put through all of this because I was curious about something. There aren’t words…there is no unit of measure that would accurately tell you how sorry I am. I’m sorry I hurt you; I never intended to, and I absolutely hate that I did. I am so, so sorry, Bruce…”

Another silence washed over them, and Tony finally looked back up at Bruce. The physicist was still leaning against the lab table, but his eyes were opened and focused intently on the surface.

When Bruce didn’t say anything for a long time, Tony just started to study how the man was standing. He still looked really stiff and exhausted. “…are you feeling any better? Physically, I mean,” Tony asked hesitantly. He still couldn’t shake the image of Monster and all of that blood out of his head, nor the howling that had been released as his body transformed.

Bruce took another moment to just remain frozen in silence.

Tony started to feel a little better about their situation when Bruce finally looked back over at him with a slightly less hurt expression and slightly clearer eyes. “I’m getting there,” Bruce replied softly, and then sat down on the stool. His brown eyes roved over Tony’s body. “What about you? I vaguely remember seeing you crashed into a wall or something…” He paled a little as he said that.

Tony shrugged, even as the movement strained the bruises all over his back. “Nothing I didn’t have coming,” he replied. He started looking more analytically at Bruce. “Getting there?” he repeated in question.

Bruce exhaled slowly and looked down at where his hands were trembling in his lap. “This transformation felt different,” he admitted, and Tony immediately froze to the spot. “I mean, there’s the usual aches and pains, but…but there are other things this time. It’s just weird,” he said, and then shrugged a little stiffly. “It’s like…my fingertips and my teeth hurt more than usual, and my back is still killing me. It’s just…” 

As he trailed off, his eyes returned to Tony. He immediately paused and just stared at Tony’s expression with deeply analytical eyes that were normally reserved for looking at an unpleasant result to an experiment. Tony had never been on the receiving end of so intense a look from the physicist before, and he tried not to squirm in his seat.

But Bruce picked up on the tiny movements of discomfort with ease. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You know something,” he said, and it was not a question.

When Tony didn’t answer, Bruce turned so that he was fully facing the engineer from where he was seated. He fixed him with an intense stare. “Tony,” he began with forced patience, “I can’t seem to remember much of what happened.” His voice was so serious, and he never looked away from the man across the lab. “We were having a civil conversation, and then suddenly we were out in the hall, with you _yelling_ at me…” He cut his eyes away and swallowed painfully, but he forced himself to look back at Tony. “I thought I had grown out of the worst of my memory problems and blackouts, but here lately, I’m beginning to question that belief. They always seem to happen around _you_ , Tony.”

There was another tense pause in the conversation as the two of them just stared at each other. Tony didn’t think he would have been put into another helpless position so soon after meeting Monster, but there he was, pinned under Bruce’s powerful stare and at a loss of what to do. His gaze slipped to his lap. He had no idea what to say. He couldn’t scoff and shove it off on exhaustion or something, like he had done to Bruce after meeting Archives for the first time. Tony _knew_ how much Bruce didn’t like the blackouts, but how on earth was he supposed to explain?

As the silence became prolonged, Bruce’s gaze lost its intensity until he was just staring openly, looking half-pleading. “Tony…” he said softly, pressing oh-so-gently for an answer, a response, _anything._

Tony looked back at Bruce to see the open look on his face. He could see the fear and uncertainty in the man’s eyes. It was the same look he had seen when Bruce came back after one of his personalities had receded. Bruce was a scientist—so was Tony. Like any great scientist, Bruce just wanted answers to a problem he didn’t have an answer to. 

And now he knew that Tony had some knowledge that would help him.

And then there was the fact that Bruce was being open with him at all, even after what had happened. Tony stared straight back at his teammate, his lab partner, his _friend,_ and saw the worry in his eyes. There was fear in Bruce’s gaze, a fear of the unknown that he couldn’t study. How could he understand the gaps in his memory if he didn’t have anything to analyze? Bruce was scared, and he was just looking for answers.

Who was Tony to deny him of that, to deny him of his peace of mind?

Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed over troubled eyes when Tony suddenly took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face. “That’s it,” the engineer said. “I’m done.”

The physicist didn’t speak, but his question filled the air regardless.

Tony gazed back at his friend. “I’m done lying to you Bruce,” he said wearily. “I can’t do it anymore. I don’t care what they say, but I just can’t lie to you anymore.”

Bruce looked both suspicious and worried now, but he hadn’t left the lab yet, meaning he was willing to listen. Tony took that as a plus. 

Tony knew he was on thin ice, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d even be able to say what he had to say without being interrupted, but he went for it, for Bruce’s sake. “You mentioned the gap of missing time between the lab and the hall?” he posed hesitantly.

Bruce was just as hesitant with his reluctant nod.

Tony nodded to himself once. He swallowed again, and then fortified himself for the plunge. “You don’t remember it because I wasn’t talking to you,” he confessed, and then waited in anticipation.

But Bruce’s skin remained his own color, and none of the man’s personalities interfered. Bruce only looked confused, and when he opened his mouth to ask a question, Tony continued.

“I was talking with one of your personalities.”

Silence filled the lab.

Bruce’s mouth had snapped shut, and now he was just staring at Tony. The engineer watched the other man, searching his friend’s face for a reaction past the eerie blankness that took over the physicist’s countenance. “Bruce, you have more than just the Hulk in there.”

It was like the mention of the Hulk snapped Bruce from his spell of silent staring. The physicist blinked, and then a look of skepticism started to appear on his features. “Tony…”

“No, seriously,” Tony said in a rush, reaching out a hand like that would help his friend understand, “I was arguing with one of them. Bruce, you have dissociative identity disorder; you have multiple personalities.” When Bruce’s expression closed off even more, Tony scrambled. “I can prove it. Please, I’m not making this up. Give me a chance.”

Before Bruce even had an opportunity to say anything, Tony darted out of his seat. He held up his hand in a gesture that said _wait._ A wave of relief went through him when Bruce only let out a long-suffering sigh and put his elbow on the table and his face in his hand. The engineer dashed out of the lab. 

Tony was quick in running around the tower, gathering what he needed. He stopped by the penthouse first, and then flew through the communal living room into the kitchen, ignoring the confused and mildly startled looks from Thor and Steve. He didn’t listen to their questions, but to keep either of the blonds from stopping him, he grabbed a canister of coffee. His obsession with the caffeinated beverage was no secret to the team, and he played on that. He gave them a pointed look and held up the coffee as he walked by. Steve rolled his eyes, but neither of them questioned him further.

He was gone for maybe four minutes, but he was still thankful to see Bruce still sitting there when he got back. The man in question broke from his thoughts and looked up when Tony came rushing back into the lab. The physicist looked both skeptical and worried, but he was willing to give Tony a chance.

His eyebrow quirked when Tony slapped the canister of coffee on a random surface as he rounded the table in his approach. He didn’t get a chance to question it, though.

“Here,” Tony said slightly breathlessly as he reached Bruce’s side. He laid out a sketch from Robby that he had kept over the months. “I bet you remember this one?” He pointed to the drawing of the Iron Man suit flying through the air. It was a drawing from the first batch that the child personality had done in the tower. 

Bruce turned a look on Tony from the corner of his eye, but he still reached for his reading glasses. Once he had them slipped on, he looked down at the drawing. There was a spark of recognition in his eye that gave Tony hope that this wasn’t all for naught. 

“Yeah,” Bruce said as his eyes continued to study the sketch, “there were a few of them on the table a few months ago. Fan mail. I’m not sure whether to be surprised or not that you kept the one of you.”

Tony huffed a laugh. “This fan is a little more special than all the others,” he said fondly. “The artist’s name is Robby, and he’s one of your personalities.”

A sigh escaped from the physicist and he took off his glasses. “Tony, don’t throw some little kid under the bus just because you—”

“I’m not!” Tony interrupted. “I’m being honest, here!” He paused to put down the other pieces of paper he had gathered. “Here, take a look at these.”

Together, they both looked at some of the other drawings Robby had done over the months, followed by the letter the Doctor had written to set up a meeting time with Archives. Bruce studied everything Tony put in front of him, but he didn’t look convinced at all. 

Tony scrambled to think of some other way to prove himself right. He finally grabbed one of Bruce’s unused legal pads and the box of colored pencils he had nabbed from the kitchen and put them in front of Bruce. 

“Write something,” Tony said as he seated himself across the table. “I swear I won’t get up from this seat and write any response you get.”

“Tony,” Bruce said, looking concerned for the engineer’s state of mind as he watched the man pull up a clock on a holographic screen. 

“Please,” Tony beseeched.

Bruce didn’t do anything for a long moment. Just when Tony was certain that his friend was about to get up and leave, Bruce heaved a sigh and grabbed his black ink pen, leaving the box of colored pencils untouched. He slipped his reading glasses back on and jotted down a single word.

_Hello?_

With that, Bruce put down his pen and took off his glasses. He sat back in his seat and skeptically watched the paper and Tony in alternations. The more time that passed, the more skeptical he looked.

Tony was silently pleading for the Doctor to come out, or Archives or Papa or _anyone_. He was starting to get worried when a full minute passed.

He heard Bruce sigh again. “Tony, this is ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” Tony pushed. “I’m not lying to you, I swear. They’re just…being shy or something, I don’t know.”

“Tony, are you listening to yourself?” Bruce asked, eyes going to the clock again. “What were we talking about that was so bad that you have to try to pin it on something as ludicrous as this? Just tell me.”

“I _did_ tell you,” Tony said forcefully. “I was talking to one of your other personalities.” Bruce let out another aggravated sigh, like he was ready to give up and just account this whole thing to Tony’s general oddness, but Tony went on. “It’s just…”

He trailed off immediately when Bruce’s eyes flashed blue, and suddenly the man’s body was shifting.

Tony watched in stunned silence as light blue covered Bruce’s rapidly shrinking body. This transformation was completely different from the last one he had witnessed and the subsequent battle between Monster and the Hulk. This one was swift, only lasting maybe two seconds total, but at the end of those two seconds, there was a new child personality seated where Bruce had been moments ago. The clothes hung off of his shrunken form and hid away most of his blue skin, but the color of his face was a clear, light blue. Not quite the color of the sky on a summer’s day, but soft.

The little boy blinked open his blue eyes, and Tony realized he was finally in the presence of Robby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder: 
> 
> I'm thinking about doing a series of one-shots with the other Avengers meeting Bruce's other personalities. Would you be interested in reading it? Please leave a comment with your answer.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	12. Robby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

Robby took a moment to look around the lab with his blue eyes, glancing all around at the different pieces of equipment and machinery. Tony watched the kid with bated breath and remained silent. The little blue boy had to be maybe six years old, but he physically looked younger. The kid was tiny for his age, hardly bigger than Honey. The personality’s eyes found the clock on the hologram, and then he gazed down at the notepad in front of him. Tony watched in suspense as Robby simply stared at the single hand-written word on the sheet before him. The child didn’t react at all beyond focusing intently on the paper.

Finally, the little boy’s eyes shifted upward and met Tony’s gaze. They spent a moment just staring at each other before Robby’s eyes narrowed on the man’s chin. “I’ve been doing your beard wrong,” he said, voice high and innocent and sounding every bit like the little kid he was.

Tony grinned a little. “I’ve never noticed,” he said in response. “Robby, right?”

The child nodded, and then his eyes landed on the box of colored pencils sitting close by. Immediately, his gaze locked onto the box, but he didn’t make a move to grab it. “The others aren’t too happy with you,” Robby confessed without looking away from the art supplies.

Tony winced. “Yeah, I’d imagine they’re pretty pissed,” the engineer admitted. His eyes went back to studying the boy. “Are you alright?”

Robby’s eyes fell to his lap as he shrugged a little. A look of pain briefly crossed his face at the movement; he probably felt absolutely dreadful, given how Bruce had admitted to the aches and pains. “Everyone’s really sad inside,” the boy whispered to the table, “and really busy. That’s why I’m out.”

A sharp stab of guilt went through his chest, and Tony’s brow furrowed slightly. “Busy?” he asked past the lump in his throat.

Robby nodded again. “The Doctor called it ‘damage control’,” he explained. “The Doctor is super busy with Little Helper. Little Helper is _really_ sad and wants to go back into the dark, so the Doctor is trying to help and make him feel better. The other grown-ups are busy like that, too. Archives’ library was trashed when M-Monster’s memory broke loose,” his voice trembled at the mention of Monster and the related memory, “so he’s cleaning up his stacks. And Papa’s trying to calm the other kids down, Monster too.” He sighed and shook his head a little. “It’s a mess.”

Tony tried to breathe, but the atmosphere in the lab was smothering. “I’m sorry I caused all of this,” he said softly to the boy.

“It’s okay,” Robby replied, just as quietly. When Tony started to protest, the child continued. “It happened a long time ago, Mr. Tony,” he said. “We all still really miss her, but…b-but Momma’s gone. She’s been for a long time.” He sniffled a little and rubbed an over-sized shirt sleeve against his eyes. “Monster just remembered more of it than the rest of us. Memories like that are really hard on us, but we’ll be fine.” A small smile appeared on his face, which surprised the engineer. “We’ve been through a lot; a memory like that won’t kick us down for long.”

The child shrugged a little again and his smile widened slightly. “Even the man is doing better. He had to help the Protector first, but he’s doing better, too. They both are.”

Tony paused at the mention of ‘the man.’ “Do you mean Bruce?” he asked.

Another smile crossed the boy’s face and he nodded. “Dr. Bruce,” he said fondly.

Tony easily caught the affection in the child’s voice, and had to stop himself from grinning widely. Here was another personality that actually called Bruce by his name, albeit with his title. “Can I ask you something?” he inquired after a moment.

“Sure,” Robby replied.

“Why don’t you ever draw Bruce or the Hulk—er, the Protector?” Tony asked. “You draw the rest of the Avengers pretty regularly…why not them?”

“Because I don’t know what they look like,” the boy replied, like the answer had been plain as day. His smile seemed to say as much. “Since the accident, we all look different inside. We don’t see Dr. Bruce or the Protector anymore, not clearly like we can see each other.” His eyes suddenly lit up, and he looked hopefully at the engineer. “Can you tell me what they look like?” he asked eagerly, leaning forward with excitement.

Tony grinned. “I’ll do you one better: I’ll show you.”

With that, Tony pulled out his phone and flipped through a few pictures until he found the one he was looking for. It was a self-taken photo that Tony had taken of himself and Bruce. He had sent to Pepper a few months ago to prove to her that he had, in fact, been working while she had been away on business. Turned out that she didn’t consider their time together in the lab as Stark Industries related work, but that was her problem. The photograph itself was of the two scientists, Tony with an arm thrown around the physicist’s shoulders. Bruce had a small element of surprise on his face at Tony’s casual touch, but he was caught mid-laugh. Tony had never deleted it from his phone, and now he was glad he hadn’t.

Without getting up from the chair he was perched on, he slid the phone over to Robby. The blue child looked reluctant to actually pick up the phone, but he leaned over the table and eagerly looked down at the screen. He stared at the image for a long time before he grinned. “He looks happy,” he said, sounding pleased.

Tony grinned as he watched the boy continue to study the picture. “JARVIS, can you find that photo of Clint and Hulk together?” he asked after a moment.

Next to the holographic screen with the clock appeared another screen with the requested photograph. It was one of the rare pictures that a photographer or reporter or random pedestrian had managed to get after a battle, before the population was quartered off from the team. The picture had made it on the front page of several local newspapers the following day. It consisted of Clint happily riding on the Hulk’s shoulders, a wide smile on his face and one of his hands in the Hulk’s hair, mid-ruffle. The big guy was grinning as he glanced at the archer, green eyes sparkling with amusement and camaraderie. “Here’s the Protector,” Tony said as he turned the hologram to Robby.

The kid looked up from the phone and stared at the Hulk. Tony would have been nervous about showing a child what the Hulk looked like, as the big guy tended to frighten some children, but Robby was still smiling as his eyes eagerly soaked in the image. “He looks happy, too,” he said. “I’m happy they’re starting to feel happy again. It’ll be nice when they’re happy again.”

At that, Robby’s blue eyes strayed to the legal pad in front of him. A silence fell between them and he studied the paper for a long time as his smile faded. “Do you think this is a good idea?” he asked softly, eyes focused intently on the _Hello?_ written on the page. “The Doctor says that Dr. Bruce will get upset if he finds out about us.”

Tony considered the question for a long moment before he sighed. “Well, he’s definitely not going to be happy with the idea right now,” he admitted, which brought Robby’s eyes up to his. He looked back at the boy. “But he doesn’t like being lied to, kiddo—” He smiled a little when Robby smiled at the nickname. “—and I hate lying to him. He might not like the idea of it all, but…but I think this’ll be good for him. Maybe Bruce would have been upset by the idea of sharing his body with more than just the Hulk before the Avengers got together, when he would have had to deal with this on his own.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry to have undone everything the Doctor and the rest of you have worked toward to keep Bruce from knowing, but… I just can’t keep lying to him anymore, Robby, maybe more now than ever.” His eyes fell to the table. “I’ve already betrayed his trust so terribly…I don’t need to lie to him on top of everything else. He deserves the truth. And even if the truth does upset him, he’s got a support system now to help him out. He’s got Steve and Clint and Thor…hell, he even has Natasha.” He paused for a moment to swallow. “And he has me, if he’s willing to have me.” Another moment was spent quietly before he looked back at Robby, only to find the kid staring straight back at him, looking far more serious than any six year old should ever look. “The thing is, Robby,” he said, “is that he’s not alone anymore. He’s got all of us willing to help him through anything.”

Another silence fell over the lab, filled only with the quiet humming of machinery. Tony glanced down at the phone, where the photograph of himself and Bruce had dimmed a little, but was still being displayed proudly.

He noticed movement and looked back up. A small smile appeared when he saw Robby, oversized sleeves pushed back far enough to reveal tiny blue hands, flipping the box of colored pencils open. The boy grabbed the red colored pencil and started doodling in the bottom corner of the legal pad, the pencil held in his left hand.

As he drew, the boy kicked his legs lightly against his chair until there was a _thump_ of a shoe hitting the ground. Robby blinked up from his work, glanced down at the fallen shoe, and then kicked off the other one before he returned to drawing and swinging his legs again.

Tony smiled to himself and felt absolutely humbled. The child personality, the one that only came out and doodled in the dead of night when he thought he was safe to, felt safe enough in Tony’s presence to draw now. Felt safe, even after what Tony had done not two days ago.

Robby suddenly looked up, and Tony broke off from his thoughts. “Do you wanna draw, too?” the child asked.

“Can’t say I ever have, really,” the engineer replied. He tried not to laugh at the shocked face the boy made.

Robby quickly tore out a piece of paper from the pad and handed it across the table to Tony. “I guess that’s okay,” he said as he slid the box of colored pencils more into the middle of the surface. He returned to doodling. “I’m not supposed to, but I do it anyway. I can’t help it.”

Tony eyed the paper and the colored pencils pushed his way before he relented. He pulled out the green one and started scribbling away on the paper. “Why aren’t you supposed to?” he asked.

Robby paused for all of a second before he continued his doodling. “Well, Momma let me when the father was away, but we always had to hide everything before he got back.” He shook his head a little. “He hated everything we did… He didn’t like my drawings, and he didn’t like that I use my left hand.” He paused in his movements again and glared at the paper. _“Only freaks use their left hand,”_ he said bitterly. His eyes went to where his left hand was still clutching the colored pencil. “I’m not good at drawing with my right hand,” he admitted softly. He looked up at Tony, and the engineer was surprised when the kid smiled. “So I’ll be a freak when I draw, because it makes me happy.”

Tony smiled in return. “You’re not a freak, kiddo, but I’m glad you never let what he said stop you from what you love.”

Robby grinned happily, positively beamed, and set aside the red colored pencil. He pulled the light blue one from the box between them and held it a little clumsily in his right hand. The smile slipped away as he stared at the paper, looking nervous. Tony just watched as the boy hesitated.

The boy glanced up at Tony again, looking scared. “…what if he doesn’t like me?” he asked in a tiny frightened voice.

An easy smile spread on Tony’s face, full of reassurance. “I don’t think that’s a possibility,” he replied. “Bruce loves kids, no matter how much he’ll deny it. He’ll like you, Robby.”

The blue boy’s eyes fell from Tony to the legal pad again. A long moment passed in which neither of them moved. Finally, Robby drew a fortifying breath and then pressed the pencil to the paper. He wrote a little clumsily, but he responded to Bruce’s brief message.

He only wrote a single word in reply before he put the pencil aside. Once he fixed his sleeves, his eyes returned to Tony, and then his body was changing. The blue disappeared as tan covered his growing form, and a second later, it was Bruce sitting in front of him, still looking skeptical, expectant, and mildly frustrated.

Bruce blinked, but he didn’t look away from the engineer. “Just what, Tony?” he asked. It took a moment for Tony to remember that the last thing he had said to the physicist was “It’s just…”

Tony just smiled warmly, and then gestured down to the legal pad sitting before his friend. Bruce’s brow furrowed, but he looked.

Bruce’s eyes immediately shot wide when he saw not only the doodle, but the response in a child’s clumsy handwriting. He fumbled for his glasses, and then stared at the message for another moment in stunned silence before his eyes shot straight to Tony.

The engineer didn’t shift under the intensity of the man’s stare, and returned the gaze with one of his own.

Finally, Bruce managed to swallow with some difficulty. “JARVIS,” he began softly and deliberately, “did Mr. Stark get up from that seat in the past—” His eyes cut to the hologram of the clock, and he cringed. “—twenty minutes?” That last part came out a little strained.

_“He has not, Dr. Banner,”_ the AI replied. _“No one has entered or exited the laboratory, either.”_

Bruce’s eyes closed and he nodded to himself as his shoulders slumped. The silence from the physicist made Tony nervous, and he started to question whether this was a good idea after all.

When Bruce’s eyes finally opened back up, he looked briefly at the holographic image of the Hulk and Clint, his brown eyes trained on his green alter-ego. He drew a deep breath in through his nose and looked back down at the legal pad in front of him. “…who came out?” he asked quietly.

Tony felt momentarily relieved that Bruce had asked _who_ and not _what._ “Robby,” Tony explained just as softly. “He’s a little boy, maybe six years old, who comes out occasionally to draw in the kitchen in the middle of the night. And he’s blue.”

Bruce took in the information and was quiet for another moment. “What exactly were the two of you doing for twenty minutes?” he asked. “There’s only a doodle of Steve’s shield and the word _Hi.”_ He paused again, and his brow furrowed slightly as he looked down at the floor for a moment. “And my shoes were taken off,” he added, glancing back at the man across from him.

“You’re not going to question the blue thing?” Tony asked.

Bruce snorted, but it sounded distracted. “I already turn green on a fairly regular basis. Why not add a few more colors into the mix.” He didn’t seem bitter, just resigned; resigned and thoughtful. “Well?” he pressed, suddenly sounding tired.

Tony shrugged lightly. “We just talked. I’ve never met him before, so we just talked for a little bit, and he drew. He’s tiny, so your shoes didn’t fit too well.” He gestured to his phone, where the screen had finally blacked out. “He wanted to know what you and Hulk look like, too.”

Bruce’s eyes moved from the phone to the legal pad again. He was silent again, just thinking. “You were serious,” he admitted in the great exhale, sounding defeated. Another lengthy silence passed before he swallowed with some difficulty. “How many more are there?” he finally asked.

Tony considered the question. “Including Hulk, I’ve met eight of them—nine, if you want to get technical.” He paused to start tapping his fingers rhythmically against the sheet of paper in front of him, over the green scribbles that loosely resembled the Hulk. “I was never told how many are still active, but…but the total I was given was thirty-seven.” He carefully watched Bruce’s expression, which looked vaguely nauseous, but still thoughtful. “Most of them are dormant, though,” Tony added.

Bruce swallowed again and ran the pad of this thumb over the knuckles of his other hand, a clear nervous tic. He drew another deep breath. “…are any of them dangerous?” he asked softly.

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Tony answered. “The one that came out two days ago—” They both winced at the mention of it “—was more intent on hurting himself than anyone else. The others that I’ve met are either kids or really friendly adults.”

Another moment passed before Bruce looked back down at Robby’s greeting. He heaved a heavy sigh. “How long has this been going on? I take it the rest of the team knows?”

“They do,” Tony replied, carefully watching Bruce, “though they haven’t met most of them. They haven’t come out a lot, but they started to emerge not long after you and the rest of the team moved in. Remember when that arrowhead we made for Clint blew up and burned his hand?” He waited for the distracted nod from the physicist to continue. “One of your personalities sort of came out then to help with the first aid. Apparently you went slightly silver, according to the rest of the team.”

Tony waited for the obvious question to come next: _why didn’t anyone tell me?_ Bruce looked like he wanted to ask it, but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the single _Hi_ on the page.

Instead of speaking, he picked up his pen again and stared at the legal pad in front of him. He looked unsure of his actions—just like Robby had minutes prior. Then again, what exactly does one say to a newly discovered child personality that’s been lurking in your head for almost your entire life?

Bruce obviously thought of something, for his pen started to move across the sheet. Tony’s eyes followed along as he wrote:

_This is new and a little weird, so please bear with me. Tony says your name is Robby. You like to draw?_

Bruce then looked at the clock again before he set down his pen and took off his glasses. 

Not a moment later, his body started to shrink and Robby reappeared.

Tony smiled when the boy looked down nervously at the notepad. The anxiousness was short-lived, for the blue alter positively beamed once he had read Bruce’s response. He looked back up at Tony, grinning widely and blue eyes shimmering with excitement. “He knows my name,” he said quietly in awe-filled wonder. He returned his gaze back down to the note from the physicist. “He…he knows about me.”

“And he’s curious,” Tony added gently.

Robby smiled back up at Tony and grabbed the light blue colored pencil from where he had left it. His writing was clunky, especially in his excitement, and his letters were a mix of upper- and lower-case, but he wrote eagerly.

_Yep! I’m Robby, And I ReALLy Like to dRAw. The AvenGeRs ARe the most funnest to dRAw. I think it’s supeR cooL whAt you And the PRotectoR do with them. YouRe A superheRo!_

Robby sat back to look at his comment, and then he leaned in again to underline _supeR cooL._

Tony watched the whole affair, and grinned. “Cool, huh?”

Robby beamed at the engineer. “ _Super_ cool.” He doodled in a quick smiley face, and then put the pencil aside. “You all are super cool.”

Tony was still smiling when Bruce reemerged. The physicist blinked, and when he saw Tony’s smile, his eyes darted down to the legal pad. He saw the new message, and a slightly breathless laugh escaped from him.

“Looks like you have a fan,” Tony said with a grin after Bruce had put on his glasses and quickly read the note from one of his other personalities. “You _and_ Hulk.”

“Is that what he means by _The Protector?”_ Bruce asked without looking away from Robby’s note.

Tony offered a nod. “That’s what they all call Hulk,” he explained.

Bruce nodded, but he was completely distracted with the new and more-than-likely life-altering discovery. Tony kept quiet and simply watched his friend as the man continued to stare at the legal pad.

When another prolonged silence passed, Tony softly cleared his throat. “I…know it all seems like a lot,” he began slowly.

“Just a little,” Bruce remarked sarcastically as he finally looked back up at the engineer.

Tony held the physicist’s gaze. “But you don’t need to handle this alone. You’ve got all of us here to help you, if you need it or want it.” He paused to look over at the screen with the picture of Clint and Hulk together. “I don’t think there’s anyone stronger or bigger than the Hulk in there, but if there is, we can handle it.” When he looked back, Bruce’s expression was completely open again. He had to pause before he could continue. “We’re here for you, Bruce. You’re our teammate…our friend. We’re here for you.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Bruce looked away and swallowed. His eyes went to Robby’s message. “…thanks for telling me,” he began quietly, “about all of this.”

Tony nodded, but kept watching the other scientist. “How are you feeling?” he asked after another moment.

Bruce didn’t move for a long second. His eyes drifted off to another part of the lab, just thinking. “It’s…it’s _bizarre,”_ he admitted, “and I can’t say I’m happy about it, but…but it makes a good deal of sense. It explains the blackouts, anyway…” He trailed off and looked back down at the doodle in the corner of the paper. “I mean, considering the Hulk and everything, it makes sense.”

Tony didn’t reply, but just watched as Bruce picked his pen back up and tapped it lightly against the notepad. When the physicist didn’t make any further move to write, the engineer glanced at the clock. “Is that time-sensitive experiment something I can take care of?” he asked.

After a moment, Bruce looked up, an expression of confusion on his face. It took another moment before he remembered why he had come down to the lab in the first place. Brown eyes glanced over at the other notebooks off to his side. “Um…yeah, I think so, but I can…”

He trailed off as Tony shook his head.

“You’re welcome to if you want,” Tony said, “but I can take care of it if you’d rather keep chatting with Robby. I’m sure you’ve got tons of questions for them. Hell, you might get a chance to correspond with Doc or Archives.”

The physicist’s brow furrowed at the mention of the two other personalities, and then he shook his head. He glanced back at the brief hand-written conversation between himself and his little blue child personality. “Yeah, I do have quite a few questions,” he admitted. He stood up, his movements still a little stiff, and picked up the legal pad. After a moment’s hesitation, he slipped the missing colored pencils back into the box before he grabbed that too. “I’d, um…I’d rather do this alone,” he told Tony, sounding vaguely apologetic.

Tony waved him off. “That’s fine, Bruce. Take the time you need. If you need the rest of us for anything, just let us know.”

Bruce ducked his head momentarily as he nodded. “I will,” he responded softly. When he looked back up at Tony, there was a small smile on his face. “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony smiled in return, and some of that heaviness that had been sitting on his chest and shoulders lifted. He still felt awful about what had happened, but he was glad that their friendship wasn’t ruined. Sure, the other personalities probably wouldn’t speak to him for a while, but Bruce was willing to, and that was plenty enough to make him happy. “You’re welcome, Bruce.” He hesitated for another moment, and Bruce simply stayed where he was, waiting for Tony to say whatever it was he needed to say. “Are…are we okay?” the engineer asked slowly.

Bruce’s eyes fell to the floor. He slipped his shoes back on, an obvious distraction that gave him some time to think. He swallowed, and then offered a nod. “…yeah,” he responded softly. His eyes returned to Tony. “Just never, _ever_ do that again.”

“I won’t, I swear,” Tony replied quickly, holding up his hands in submission. A tentative smile twisted his lips. “Thanks.”

Bruce smiled a little, not the full kind of smile that Tony had gotten used to seeing, but it was a start. With that, the physicist turned and left the lab.

Tony watched his friend leave until he couldn’t see him anymore. Once Bruce was gone, the engineer let out a long breath of air and sagged in his seat. The tension that had been held in his shoulders wasn’t completely gone, but he felt better now than he had in the past few days.

Bruce didn’t hate him. The very thought of that revelation made a grateful smile appear on Tony’s face. Sure, the physicist wasn’t very happy with him, and he would need to apologize to the Hulk the next time he saw the big guy, but things looked like they could only get better from here.

He took another moment to revel in the fact that he hadn’t ruined their friendship. Once he felt ready, Tony stood up and circled around the table to open up the notebooks with his friend’s hand-written notes. “JARVIS, pull up everything on Bruce’s experiment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chance!
> 
> I'm thinking about doing a series of one-shots with the other Avengers meeting Bruce's other personalities. Would you be interested in reading it? Please leave a comment with your answer.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	13. Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters present. They belong to Marvel comics. This was written purely for fun. Please note that I am not a trained psychologist.

Tony took a sip of his coffee, letting the noises of a bustling kitchen wash over him as he focused on his Starkpad. The rest of the team, minus Bruce, was in the kitchen as well. At the table, Thor was telling Natasha a stirring tale from a long-ago battle in Asgard while the assassin busied herself with cleaning one of her many weapons. Steve was at the stove, spatula in hand as he fixed up the eggs they managed to devour every morning. Clint was nearby, perched on the counter and pestering the super soldier. Tony was seated on a stool at the kitchen island.

When the noise suddenly came to an abrupt halt, Tony looked up. His eyes landed on Bruce as the physicist wandered into the room. The man had kept to himself for the rest of the day after learning about his other personalities yesterday, but Tony was relieved to see him out and about today. There were still dark circles under his eyes, and he still looked tired and achy, but the fact that he had left his room at all—let alone sought out company—was promising.

The silence lasted for all of a second before Clint grinned and jumped down from the counter. The sound of his feet hitting the ground seemed to shake everyone from their sudden hush. 

Steve smiled warmly and cracked a few more eggs into the mixing bowl without ever asking if Bruce wanted any. Clint grabbed the kettle from the back burner of the stove, easily dodging around the soldier to grab it, and then moved to the sink to fill it with water.

Movement from his periphery made Tony glance over in time to see Thor rising to his feet, an enormous smile on his face as he stared at Bruce. “I am most pleased to see that you have emerged from your lair at last, dear friend,” the demigod welcomed as he engulfed the physicist in a huge hug, lifting the smaller man off his feet. 

Bruce hung limply from the Asgardian’s arms for a moment longer before a small chuckle escaped from him. “Thanks, Thor,” he said softly.

Once Thor had gently put the physicist back down, Natasha gracefully lifted herself from her seat. A look of surprise crossed Bruce’s face when the redhead approached and hugged him as well. The embrace was loose and gentle, and Bruce obviously didn’t know how to react aside from tensing a little. 

“It’s good to see you again,” Natasha said quietly. She stepped back to study him closely, hands still on the physicist’s shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

The tension in Bruce’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and a small smile appeared on his face. “Better,” he replied honestly, although he did still sound tired.

Natasha watched him for a moment longer before she gave a single nod and released him.

Once the assassin had started to return to her seat at the table, Bruce stepped around the island and sat down next to Tony. The room instantly froze and became silent again as Natasha, Thor, Steve, and Clint all looked between Tony and Bruce, searching for a hint of tension or strain between the two scientists.

Finally, the kettle began to whistle. Bruce moved to take care of it, but Clint waved at him to sit back down. 

With that, everyone returned to their normal morning routine. Tony sipped at his coffee and glanced over at the physicist next to him. Bruce had another small smile on his face, like he was still surprised to see himself with this group on some level, but on another level, somewhere deeper, he was glad that he was with this group of people at all…like he was glad that this group of people, this group of friends, really did have his back.

When Bruce turned and caught him staring, Tony smiled and took another sip of his coffee.

==

There was a call to assemble that afternoon. The Hulk was a little quieter than usual during the fight, which had Tony worried. He wasn’t able to focus on it for very long stretches of time, however, as he was kept thoroughly busy with the newest of Earth’s invaders. Every-so-often, he would hear a roar from across the battlefield, but it was nothing like normal.

Soon, the fight was over with another strong victory for the Earth and the Avengers. They were all reconvening on street-level when Tony spotted the Hulk. He was relieved to see the green goliath smiling up at Clint, who was on a massive shoulder. Tony caught the tail end of Clint and Hulk’s conversation, in which the archer was apologizing for using the tranquillizer on him a few days ago. 

The Hulk waved off the archer’s concerns. “Cupid fine,” he rumbled.

When the giant came to a stop with the rest of the team, he looked straight down at Tony. The two stared at each other for a long time before Tony swallowed and lifted his face-plate. The giant didn’t look angry, but his smile was gone. “How are you feeling, Big Guy?” he asked.

The Hulk nodded a little. “Hulk okay,” he replied. His face then darkened into something more threatening, and he leaned forward, ignoring the archer on his shoulder who balanced himself with ease. From the corner of his eye, Tony saw the rest of the team tense a little as the giant poked the chest piece of the engineer’s armor once they were face-to-face. “Tony _never_ make Banner hurt again,” the Hulk growled in a low, menacing voice with his teeth bared.

Tony nodded. “I won’t,” he responded. “I’m so sorry about what happened, and I’ll try to never hurt Bruce again. I’m sorry that I hurt you, too, Hulk.”

The two remained frozen for a moment longer before the Hulk snorted and poked Tony’s chest again for good measure. “Good,” he said, and then withdrew his hand. He straightened up. “Banner say Tony say sorry when Tony talk about others. Hulk want to make sure.”

The rest of the team suddenly froze at the mention of the ‘others.’ They all turned their intense stares to Tony in unison, who just stared straight back up at the Hulk.

“You told Bruce?” Natasha asked in a low voice.

“I was done lying to him,” Tony answered, sparing her only a brief eye before he returned his attention to the goliath. “Bruce told you, Big Guy? About the others?”

They were all surprised when a gentle smile appeared on the Hulk’s face. “Banner explain,” the green giant said, carefully articulating the rarely used word. “Say others like brothers and sisters, but can’t see.” He shrugged, careful not to jostle Clint. “Others been there long time, so nothing really change. Hulk still smash, and both still on team, still with friends. Things good.”

A huge grin spread wide across Tony’s face. “You bet we’re all still friends.”

The green goliath grinned wide at the affirmation from Tony, which was followed by agreements from the rest of the team. “Hulk happy,” he said with a rumble in his chest that sounded less like a growl and more like a content purr. He then carefully set Clint down on the street and began to shrink down.

==

The debriefing with Fury aboard the helicarrier was quick, as the team had fought with a cohesiveness that they had never achieved before. He turned his eye briefly on Bruce to welcome the man back, and asked if he was feeling better. The drowsy scientist smiled a little from his chair and replied that he was, and then apologized for missing the previous fight.

After that, the meeting quickly wrapped up, and then the six teammates were back on a quinjet and on their way back to the tower. 

Once they had returned and finished cleaning up a little, they gathered for their post-mission dinner and movie. They all settled in with their Thai take-out and started the film, each of them content to just fall into this ritual. The atmosphere between them was lighter than Tony could ever remember. With how stressful the past few days had been, to be sitting with Bruce and the rest of the team together, sharing a meal and each other’s company, was pretty remarkable.

Bruce, of course, fell asleep not long after he had finished eating, curled into the corner of the sofa with a blanket wrapped around him. The rest of them were quiet for the rest of the movie in respect for their sleeping friend, just like any other time they had all gathered to watch a film together.

Tony kept his smile to himself. It really did feel just the same as it had been, only with more camaraderie. The discovery of his other personalities hadn’t changed how Bruce seemed to feel about them. Sure, the physicist hadn’t spoken to them about his other personalities, but the fact that he had felt comfortable enough to approach them spoke volumes. The fact that he was still willing to fall asleep in front of them said even more.

And then there was the way that he hadn’t even flinched when Tony gently woke him up once the credits started rolling. Tony fought the smile that threatened to appear as they all went their separate ways for the night.

==

The following week passed with similar ease. Steve hadn’t called any full-team practices in reverence to the team healing up after their last battle (and letting Bruce fully heal after the brutal Monster transformation, followed swiftly by the recent battle on top of that). They all kept busy doing their own things. Tony had been down in the lab, and Bruce’s time had been split between working with Tony or being off on his own; Tony wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he had an idea.

It was early in the morning, too early for Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Thor to have already been through the kitchen for breakfast, when Tony stepped out of the elevator. As he walked across the communal living room toward the kitchen, he spotted Bruce passed out on the sofa. There was a blanket thrown carefully over him—probably Steve’s doing, either on his way to or from his morning run. 

Tony grinned at the sight, and then moved into the kitchen and looked immediately at the table. Sure enough, there were slips of paper littered across the surface, along with a box of colored pencils. He got the coffee maker started first before he went to go look at Robby’s newest pieces of artwork.

When he saw what was drawn, he suddenly felt his chest tighten with some emotion that he wouldn’t admit to having and a quiet, breathless laugh escaped from him. Each and every one of the drawings included either Bruce or the Hulk. At long, long last, the man and his big green alter-ego had been included in the boy’s drawings.

There was one from their very first full-team practice, with the Hulk and Thor sparring in the woods. Both looked determined to win, but they were both grinning widely, looking like they were having the time of their lives.

There was another with himself and Bruce working in the lab, huddled together and looking at screen.

A grinned crossed Tony’s face when he saw that his goatee was accurate this time, remembering the child’s first spoken words to him.

Another displayed Steve standing in the Hulk’s hand, dressed in his work-out clothes with his shield on his arm. The expression on the soldier’s face was almost paternal in his encouragement of the Hulk, who looked cautiously proud.

Another depicted Clint and Natasha helping Bruce prepare a meal for the team—accurate in that Natasha was dicing vegetables with frightening efficiency, and Clint was making a nuisance of himself on the counter next to Bruce, grinning as he peeled potatoes. Bruce himself was smiling patiently over at the archer, and Natasha was fighting a smile herself.

There was one of the Hulk alone, mid-battle and mid-roar.

There was one of Bruce alone, writing in a notebook in the lab as his glasses slipped down his nose.

Tony felt his grin lightened into something softer. They had _finally_ been included in Robby’s drawings. 

As he was studying the last drawing of the bunch, he heard movement from the next room. He glanced over at the room in question for all of a second before he moved across the kitchen, paper still in hand.

When Bruce wandered in, the physicist offered a sleepy ‘good morning,’ which was followed by an equally sleepy ‘thank you’ when he spotted the kettle on the stove, already heating the water for his morning tea. 

Tony responded with a greeting and a smile from where he was seated at the kitchen island. He sipped at his coffee, not bothering to watch the other man move behind him, but just waiting in anticipation. Sure enough, when he heard Bruce’s movements come to an abrupt halt, he glanced over. 

Bruce was staring intently at the refrigerator, and all signs of drowsiness had vanished. Tony hid a grin behind another sip of his coffee as the physicist slowly moved closer to the fridge.

Hanging with the aid of magnets from the kitchen appliance was one of Robby’s drawings, Tony’s personal favorite from the bunch. The artwork showed each of the Avengers in front of the tower. They were all in uniform, with Iron Man and Thor hovering above Natasha and Steve. In the center of the drawing were Hulk, Clint, and Bruce. The archer was perched on the green giant’s massive shoulder, his bow pulled back and an arrow notched and ready to be fired. Hulk himself was standing tall, a savage grin on his face and his hands clenched into tight fists, ready for action. Standing in front of the goliath was Bruce, hands folded together with a small, tranquil smile on his lips. 

Beneath the entire team, all seven of them, was the proud proclamation in a child’s messy scrawl: _“ouR fAmiLy.”_

When Tony finally looked away from the drawing, hanging with pride on the fridge, his eyes went back to the physicist. Bruce was smiling in the same way Robby had captured in the doodle: small, but completely peaceful. 

After he spent another long moment just looking, Bruce’s smile widened and he ducked his head. Then he glanced over at Tony, who was hiding his own smile behind his mug of coffee. There was something distinct in the physicist’s expression that bespoke how Bruce still thought the whole situation was bizarre, but there was an element of fondness that overpowered the negative emotion.

Bruce looked like he wanted to say something, but after remaining silent for another second, he just shook his head and looked back at the drawing on the fridge. “Well…” he said, and had no intention of following up the statement with another thought.

Tony grinned, but said nothing to prompt his friend into speech. Instead, he just watched Bruce go about getting his tea ready. He didn’t say anything each time he caught Bruce peeking back over at the drawing on the refrigerator. 

Finally, Bruce sat down next to Tony at the island, watching the steam from his tea dance in the air. They sat silently for a moment before Bruce’s eyes landed on Tony. “He’s a good kid,” he admitted quietly.

Tony nodded his agreement and set down his mug of coffee. “Are you two still corresponding?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t prying.

A smile appeared on Bruce’s face. “Not quite so much in the past few days,” he said. He looked down at his tea and ran his fingertips lightly against the ceramic, careful not to burn himself. “I’ve been corresponding more with the Doctor.” He paused to glance back at Tony. “Seems he’s not too happy with you at the moment.”

Tony cringed, but there wasn’t anything accusatory in Bruce’s expression. “Yeah, I can’t imagine he would be…” The engineer trailed off as he looked into his coffee, and then he finally looked back at Bruce. “You’ve been able to talk to the others?”

Bruce shrugged with an easy movement, now that the stiffness in his neck and shoulders had finally vanished. “Not sure if _talk_ is the right word, but _passing notes_ sounds a bit juvenile.” He grinned when Tony snorted a laugh. “I’ve shared words with Robby and the Doctor so far.”

“No one else?” Tony asked.

“Not yet,” Bruce replied.

There was a lull in their conversation as Bruce took an experimental sip of his tea, which was still steaming. As he set the mug back down, the physicist’s eyes returned to the refrigerator. 

Tony also glanced over at the doodle on the fridge. He eyed the boy’s clumsy handwriting, feeling that same feeling of warmth in his chest as he read the words _our family._ He didn’t necessarily know who the _our_ entailed.

But as he turned back around to look at Bruce and saw the little warm smile on the man’s face, he had a feeling that the sentiment encompassed Bruce in some degree, too. He felt a smile of his own begin to tug his lips.

When Bruce glanced over to find Tony staring at him again, the engineer grinned. The engineer hitched a thumb over his shoulder to the table behind him. “The kid did a few more, if you’re interested.”

Bruce peered over his shoulder to glance at the kitchen table. He spotted the slips of paper littering the surface, and his smile widened slightly. 

The physicist slid off of the bar stool and approached the table, Tony echoing his movements. Tony hung back for a moment, just watching as his friend put his glasses on to study Robby’s artwork. 

Bruce looked up from one of the drawings and glanced at Tony. “He got your goatee right,” he commented casually.

Tony grinned wide, and approached the table to join his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot offer enough thanks to everyone who has commented, bookmarked, given kudos, and--most importantly--read this story. 
> 
> If you're interested in reading the books that inspired this, I highly recommend them: _When Rabbit Howls_ by the Troops for Truddi Chase, _The Flock_ by Joan Frances Casey with Lynn Wilson, and _A Fractured Mind: My Life With Multiple Personality Disorder_ by Robert B. Oxnam. They are amazing books on a very fascinating topic.
> 
> You, the readers, have spoken! You all have pretty unanimously voted on having a series of one-shots written. While I cannot guarantee how frequently these one-shots will come out, know that I have three definite stories in mind already. I'm opening up the floor for suggestions on which team member you'd like to have meet one of Bruce's personalities from this story. 
> 
> With that, I offer my thanks again for reading. Thank you!


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